Bella and the Beast
by Elliptic Lullaby
Summary: An AU version of 'Beauty and the Beast' featuring the 'Twilight' gang and their many misadventures. Read AN for full summary. Rated T to be safe. [EB]
1. Author's Note: Updated 730

******Author's Note: Updated 7.30**

Bet you guys didn't think you'd hear from me for another _month_ at least. -giggles-Well, I don't blame you. But guess what? I got a new chapter up WITHIN A WEEK! -dances in circles- I'm so proud of myself!

Anyway, now I'm done being hyper.This may actually be my shortest chapter yet. It answers the questions people have been asking me: what does Edward feel like about all this? How does Jacob feel about this? Now, now, it's not ALL there (gotta save some for the next installment -wink-), but some of it, at least. And of course, our favorite goddesses guest star in this installment...with a bit of a shocker near the end.

Lol, is anyone else as excited as I am?

By the way, if anyone actually READS these author notes (which I strongly suspect they don't), I'm still looking for a beta. Please please _please_ PM me if you're interested.

Well, that's enough rambling. On with the show!

The enthusiastic Ellie

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**Author's Note: Updated 7.23**

-deep sigh- The time has come to admit that I cannot do it alone. For anyone interested in becoming a beta for both this story's edits and the one I'm currently working on, please PM me. I'm looking for two of them, so please, _please_ PM me if you're looking for some beta-ing.

And, for the very important reason I'm posting: I promise not to reveal _any _Harry Potter spoilers. Take it from someone who studiously avoided all news networks while she was finishing the book: it's horrible to have to avoid everything and everyone to be able to read without it being ruined for you. It's truly despicable and unfair for those who enjoy this book to have it ruined for them through other people's immature behavior. People are going to _jail_ for giving spoilers, okay? It's not right, guys, so you won't be hearing anything from me.

Ahem, anyway, here is the long awaited chapter J I thank everyone who has reviewed and pushed me over the 100 mark. You all ROCK!

The marvelous Ellie

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**Author's Note: Updated 6.19**

Hey everyone! I do so love you all for reviewing! -blows kisses- New chapter's up :) and I couldn't be happier. This one mostly deals with Charlie's viewpoint on everything and (for all of you knowing readers who guessed correctly -winks at Sara-) a bit about the wolves. Tee-hee, I'm excited, aren't you?

The next chapter should be up by the end of the week, hopefully if my computer doesn't freak out like it did the last time it rained. Sheesh, computers. I've said it once, I'll say it again: they're just complicated enough so that we can't challenge their authority. Lol, anyway, let me stop babbling and let you get on to it. Read and review!

The enthusiastic Ellie

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**Author's Note: Update 3.16**

I'm a bit ashamed to note that a little less than **3 months** has passed since I last updated. -grimaces- Edits on Bella and the Beast are taking longer than I expected. Sara, also known as Daimios, was kind enough to sympathize with me. Seriously guys, it's the little details that kill you. It's easiest to map out a storyline and decide what will happen when, but without details, the story is just an outline, really.

And let me tell you, I'm about ready to take a hammer to these details. -growls-

On a lighter note, it's SPRING BREAK, BABY! You know what that means: cute bikinis, cuter guys, jet-skis, outlet malls, the works! I'M SO EXCITED!

Well, ahem, I'll bore you no longer with my aspirations for the upcoming week (I swear I'm finally going to beat Tuck at the sandcastle contest...). By the way, for anyone curious about the bit at the end involving Alice, I've always been intrigued by how anyone could send their relative to an asylum. It's just horrible that she can't remember anything :( So I apologize if that particular detail isn't canon. But hey, neither is this entire fanfiction, right? That part was probably the hardest to write, and although I'm convinced it could be better, here it is.

Later guys! Have fun over Spring Break! I'll try to get the next chapter up soon!

The beach-babe (tee-hee, yeah right...),

Ellie

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**Author's Note: Updated 12.26**

Hello everyone! I'd just like to thank everyone who left reviews for me, including several of the threats I got (lol, I know it was out of love, guys); I love you all so much! I hope you'll be happy to know that I'm successfully out of rehab and have been deemed healthy! dances in circles This means I can come back and write again! Gosh, you don't know how HAPPY that makes me!

I'd especially love to thank Sara, known on the site as **Damios, **for her lovely, sweet, kind review. It really brightened my day, Sara, thank you.

Well, this next chapter deals with what happened to the Cullens and what they'll do with Charlie. I hope it lives up to expectations. I promise the next update won't be so far away.

The happy and healthy,

Ellie

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**Author's Note: Updated 10.23 **

Hospitals suck. And why do they suck, you ask? Because I've been in this hospital for close to a month.

In September, I punctured my lung. I'm not really sure why and neither are the doctors, although they're convinced it has something to do with stress. Eh, as I figure it, they're the experts so I guess they know what they're saying. But is it really fair to confine me to a lumpy matress for nigh on 30 days?

Yes, this explain's Ellie's absense from the fanfiction community. My parents have done everything they can think of to make sure I don't over-stress again, but frankly, being without my laptop has stressed me out even more. So here I am! I apologize for not reviewing and those who I did review for, I was sneaking into my sister's breifcase for her laptop.

I shortened this last chapter because it was too long. So long that I couldn't remember what had happened at the start, so I halfed it. I hope it's to everyone's liking since the story should progress pretty smoothly from here. This is kinda/sorta a "filler chapter" more or less. Anyway, here's the next installation of Bella and the BeastI apologize for the long wait, but it really couldn't be helped.

From the world of green jello and hospital gowns,

Ellie

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**Author's Note: Updated 9.16**

I was so excited at the responses to my first chapter so I decided to go ahead a post the next. From here on in, it might get a bit more complicated, but bear with me and feel free to ask any questions if you get confused.

Also, thanks so much to: **Narnialover, cookiedoughmunchkin, Dreamcloud818, Captain Raven Roth, TooMuchLoveforEdward, NightFreak, **and** TwilightSnowStar** for being the first to review!Thanks bunches for reviewing, guys, and enjoy the next chapter!

The enraptured Ellie

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**Author's Note: Updated 9.15**

I've read several of Seraphyn's fanfictions and I really do love the way she organizes her author's notes so that they don't take up the room meant for the story. I know what it's like to get an update email to find that it's just an author's note, lol. This way, we avoid that sad sense of disappointment altogether. So, before you go running off to tell her, I'd just like to say that this idea is completely Seraphyn's; it doesn't belong to me at all, I'm just borrowing it.

Okey-doke! That being said, let me give you a tad bit of a summary of 'Bella and the Beast'. It's basically an AU version of Disney's 'Beauty and the Beast' with all of the Twilight characters we know and love. Bella lives in Forks with Charlie, who is so completely OOC in this, I'll acknowledge. Her mother is...gone, we won't get into where. Edward has done...something that causes the Cullens to be unable to leave their mansion for nearly a century, which, as we all know, is like the ultimate punishment for vampires. All of the logistics will be explained as we go along, so just stay tuned for my updates, which'll be posted on Tuesdays, or more frequently if I get the chance. Basically, I've twisted the plot of Disney's movies added in a bunch of fun vampires like the Cullens, a silly, clumsy human name Bella Swan and voila! Let's see what happens.

The mysterious Ellie


	2. Chapter 1

**Chapter One**

**Dear Jessica,**

**I apologize for the length of time since my last letter. With the fair quickly approaching, Charlie has been working us both to the bone and I rarely have a moment to myself. And anyway, my arm hasn't even stopped tingling from our last attempt.**

Bella Swan paused in her letter to giggle over her father's latest experiment. The explosion had singed off his eyebrows giving him a perpetually surprised look. She grinned and set her pen back to the paper.

**How are things in Port Angeles? If you must know, I'm living through you. Everything remains the same day after day in Forks. Your letters provide me with a small taste of the exciting life in the city.**

A bit of an exaggeration, Bella mused, but she'd come to understand that such lavish compliments encouraged long letters from Jessica about the goings-on of the city.

**I shall write again soon. Millicent is nearly ready to calve; she's certainly been quite loud about it.**

**Give my regards to your parents.**

**Yours,**

**Bella**

Satisfied, she folded the letter carefully and placed it in the warm recesses of her dress.

"Bells, Billy and I are going fishing," Charlie called up the steps, "will you be fine for a few hours?"

Charlie was the chief of the police force in Forks, though you'd hardly know it as there was such little actually happening in the tiny town for a crime to occur. Occasionally, the volunteer squad would have to put out a fire when Old Lady Browning fell asleep at the stove or when a member or the community needed a ride to the hospital in Port Angeles, the neighboring town. It was a good three hours to Port Angeles, so mostly, people in Forks just crossed their fingers and made do with the mediocre doctors they had.

"I'll be fine!" she responded. Even from upstairs, she could hear the _squeak, click_ of the front door signifying Charlie's departure.

Bella sat back in her chair and sighed deeply. Nothing and no one ever changed in Forks. She'd been surrounded by the same people, buildings, scenery since birth and would probably be with them until she died.

Forks was the kind of town you wouldn't find on any map, unless of course, the cartographer himself was from Forks. It was the type of town you'd ride past in buggy or on a horse and then blink, and already be past it all. It was a speck, a tiny dot on the face of humanity and she, Bella Swan, was doomed to live there forever.

I should be grateful, she thought chastising herself angrily, I have a home, a farm, a loving father.

_Then why does it seem like I'm just biding my time here? Why do I so much want there to be more?_

She pushed these mutinous thoughts from her head and crept into the barn.

Bella usually considered herself lucky. She and Charlie owned a pseudo-farm on the outskirts of town. Her father had bought it when he and her mother were still newlyweds. Now it was just she and him on their patch of land. They had yet to try their hand at growing anything, though. Mostly, they just sold milk made by their faithful cow, Millicent, eggs from the dozen or so chickens, and relied on Charlie's small salary paid by the people of Forks to get by.

Their barn wasn't huge, as it only held a few animals. It may have been red a long time ago, but it had dulled to a faded pink. The whole structure creaked when the wind blew hard enough and the roof leaked when it rained. Charlie always held his monologue whenever they stepped into the barn, the same one he'd done for fifteen years.

"I'll need to patch up that ceiling as soon as I have time, Bells. Remind me."

Millicent stared at her balefully. Bella tip-toed carefully around the scattered hay and made her way to the pregnant cow. Millicent mooed mournfully, begging Bella to somehow ease the pain. Bella stroked her bulging stomach and spoke softly, both hoping the baby would come soon. They, the heifer and the human, remained in this fashion for an immeasurable stretch of time sharing a connection that only females can have with a baby on the way.

The barn doors were thrust open streaming sunlight into the dark room. Bella raised an arm to shield her eyes. "Who's there?" she asked tentatively.

Immediately, Bella wished she had just hidden behind Millicent while she had the chance. Because the person standing in the doorway of the barn was the last person on Earth she wanted to see.

Mike Newton was charming in his own way, Bella supposed, and no one in Forks could deny the fact that he was handsome, but other than that, there was little else to recommend his character. In fact, Bella was fairly sure that Millicent's calf would be smarter, but as everyone else seemed to look past that and focus solely on his looks, she wisely chose to keep her opinions to herself.

"Ah, _there_ you are, Belle. I didn't see you in town today."

Bella cringed inwardly at his personal nickname for her. _My name is Bella, you oaf, and you didn't see me in town because I am currently sitting beside an expecting bovine…_

Instead of voicing her dark thoughts, Bella busied herself with a piece of hay. "Millicent will be calving soon; she needs me."

Mike wrinkled his nose in disgust. "Belle, are you honestly going to deliver a cow? Why can't your father hire hands for this kind of hard labor?"

To Bella, bringing a baby into the world wasn't at all hard labor…well, Millicent would be in hard labor, as this was her first pregnancy, and—

"Are you listening, Belle? It just isn't seemly for a woman to know so much about childbirth."

Bella's mouth twitched. "Oh?" _I'll bet Millicent's glad I know what I do about childbirth…_

"Yes!" Mike came to sit next to her on the floor. "Bella," he said using her preferred name (for once), "you deserve the best. I want you to have the best." He took her hand and pressed it to his chest. "If you'd just agree to marry me—"

Bella wrenched her hand away. How _dare_ her use this as another time to make an unwanted marriage proposal! If she hadn't felt it beating beneath her fingers seconds ago, she would have seriously doubted that Mike had any heart at all.

Millicent watched the exchange silently, thankful that her attention was no longer focused on the pains of labor.

Irritated to say the least, Mike scowled. "I suggest that you think this through. Think about what I can give you, whatever you desire. Besides," he scoffed, "it's not as if someone better is going to come around. I'm the best suitor in three towns. I know it, you know it, the whole town knows it. So I'm going to ask again: Isabella Swan, will you marry me?

Bella stood and re-opened the barn door. "I think you should go, Mike."

Mike stood and crossed the span of the barn and out into the sunlight. "Belle," he said loftily over his shoulder, "you'll come around."

_She _will_ be my wife, _Mike thought.

Bella pushed the door closed and leaned back against it gratefully.

Mike represented everything she hated about the world: arrogance, ego, selfishness. Marriage, for her, was a union to be joined in if—and only if—the couple was truly, madly, deeply in love. So much in love that they could imagine themselves old and wrinkly celebrating the sixtieth anniversary of their devotion. It was certainly not something to jump into blindly by a parent's wishes or be _bribed_ into. Mike could be kind when he wanted, but she didn't love him. She hardly even liked him. And she most definitely couldn't see herself with him in sixty years. Frankly, she'd always regarded Mike as a kind of medicine: to be taken in small doses and only when absolutely necessary.

The problem was Bella was beginning to wonder if that type of love was even out there. Charlie's marriage hadn't ended well. Her mother was like a wild horse. Her father had tried and failed to tame her and after a pitiful two years, they terminated the marriage, her father heartbroken and her mother rearing to change out and grab life by the horns.

But Bella was still young. Maybe she could find love. But even if true love didn't exist, she wasn't foolish enough to enter matrimony with a man she'd only be miserable with.

_It has to be somewhere; I only pray that it's close enough that I may someday get to see it._

Millicent mooed as another contraction sliced through her.

Bella smiled knowing it would be less than an hour before Millicent would be a mother. At least, she thought, life still gives me something to smile about.

-------------------

Mike on the other hand was not smiling. He stormed into Ruby's Diner, glaring at everyone in the small establishment. Ruby, owner and manager, set his usual steaming glass of cider in front of him at his regular booth and retreated under the excuse of tending to other customers.

Ruby was in her early twenties, though her youthful face made her appear to be Bella's age. She had laugh lines already forming around her tiny mouth. Her eyes were a steely gray that danced when she talked and seemed endless. There was many a man in Forks in love with her.

Ruby had lived in Forks all her life. Her parents had died of pneumonia the winter she turned seventeen. For a few years, she'd scrounged for pennies, saving and earning until she was able to buy the old abandoned hardware store. She'd turned it into a diner and a serviceable one, at that. There were barely any other eating places in Forks and people knew they could always come to the orphan with the laughing eyes for a cider and a smile. Ruby knew everyone inside and out. She had a way of making people spill out their life stories, casually serving advice as easily as she did her apple pie.

Mike Newton, for example, was in a pickle. The child was not much younger than she, but his temper was legend. He had a manner about him that made the girls swoon and the men hold tighter to their women without even meaning to. He could have anyone he wanted and he'd chosen Miss Bella Swan, Chief Swan's only child. Trouble was, she didn't seem to be nearly as eager to marry him as he was to marry her.

Who did Bella Swan think she was? Mike thought. Women in Forks kissed the ground he walked on; who was she to refuse a prize any other woman would kill for?

He sipped moodily at his cider. It was a known fact that Mike wasn't one to give up until he got what it was he wanted. However, it hadn't gone unnoticed by the citizens of Forks that Mike had been after the chief's daughter's hand in marriage for months and had yet to secure an affirmation from her. It was simply unheard of! No one had ever managed to deny the young man anything…for long. Tim and Tuck, elderly twin brothers with a knack for getting into mischief even in their old age, had gone so far as to start a betting pool on how long Miss Swan would hold out.

"She's a strong lass," they said, "but she'll give in soon enough."

There'd even been some speculation suggesting that she was a bit touched in the head. Honestly, what sane red-blooded woman would give up a find like Mike Newton?

Ruby scrubbed the dirty dishes thoughtfully. No, Isabella wasn't insane; she was only doing what no one had succeeded in since Mike's birth.

But in Forks, to go against the general consensus was to be ostracized and poked at forever. So Ruby kept her mouth shut and her ears open, hoping that Miss Swan wouldn't be just another girl bending to the will of men.

The bells over the front door tinkled, signaling another customer. Tyler Crowley strode through into the diner. At Ruby's slight tilt of the head, he searched the booths for Mike. He nodded at her and slid into the seat opposite him.

Tyler had been best friends with Mike and Eric Yorkie since the trio had been in diapers, just further proof that nothing ever changed in Forks. He knew even without asking that Bella had rejected Mike again. Tyler, having bet quite a sum of money on Bella caving today, shared Mike's pain. Neither could fathom how a single female could be quite so stubborn.

Tyler ordered a tall glass of cider and drank slowly, not saying anything. He'd learned that attempting to engage his friend in any type of conversation was just prolonging the inevitable outburst.

"She said no," Mike finally mumbled.

This was not the time for sarcasm or remarks about his personal financial loss, Tyler noted. It seemed that the unshakable Mike had finally been beaten. By a woman. "So," he said choosing his words carefully to avoid angering his comrade even further, "is that it?"

Mike stared at his empty mug and shrugged.

The bells rang again and Charlie and his friend Billy Black entered. Billy lived in a house on the Native American reservation and only came to Forks to see Charlie every now and then.

"What can I get you, Chief?" Ruby asked without looking up.

Charlie placed a hand on the arm of Billy's wheelchair. "Nothing for me, thanks. Billy?"

Billy's wide face cracked into a grin. "I've heard of the cider here, Miss Ruby. I'd be pleased to have it served to me by a beautiful lady."

Ruby flushed red. "That's quite the charmer you brought with you, Chief. Alright, let's get you fellows to a table." She wheeled Billy to the table. Then, looking around to determine whether certain pair of young men were too engrossed in their brooding to pay any attention to the young barmaid, she leaned towards Charlie. "There's talk that Mike Newton asked your daughter to marry him."

Charlie blinked in disbelief. "Again? Well, you have to admire his perseverance."

Billy frowned. "Who?"

Ruby walked back to the bar and grabbed a mug. As the cider tap slowly filled the glass, she said, "Honey, you must be new to town if you don't know about Mike and Bella. They're about as close to matrimony as a couple can get without actually getting married."

Charlie focused on a dent in the wood, not at all comfortable with the possibility of someone taking his daughter away. It was a great relief that thus far Bella hadn't agreed, but even he knew that eventually she would. Though they weren't aware, he and Bella were both worried over the same issue.

"Oh, to be young and in love," Billy said sighing and not showing any surprise at being called 'honey' by a girl decades younger than him. "So why hasn't she said yes?"

Love? Charlie felt himself turning green.

Ruby paused in their conversation to retrieve the cider. She set it down in front of Billy. "That's the thing, isn't it? Why _hasn't_ she?" They turned to Charlie expectantly.

Charlie felt a wave of nausea rise up. "I should think you two will find better things to discuss than silly town gossip." He stood stiffly. "If you'll excuse me, my invention awaits me at home."

-------------------

Unawares, the citizens of Forks were being watched.

In a house so overgrown with weeds and vines and ivy it could hardly be called a house anymore, lurked a creature succumbed to darkness. Its lair had crept further and further into disarray, as its master remained rutted in a deep pit of depression. The mansion couldn't even be considered a building now; it was more of an abnormally massive tree.

It mattered not. The occupants of the house, those who resided with the creature in a companionable—if not truly satisfying or fulfilling—existence, cared little about the exterior of the home. They themselves had not seen it in almost half a century.

Nor were they concerned what passer-bys may think. No one had passed the old, secluded structure in decades.

In the cold gloom of the mansion, however, life went on. Those relegated to the confines of the house carried on as what was normal for them.

All except for one.

Another creature crept into the semi-dark room, her bare feet treading silently on the dusty carpet. Regardless of her lack of noise, she knew the thing in the chair had heard her presence.

"Leave me be," it said.

The female creature, defiant to her petite core, didn't slow her feet or make any move to acknowledge the other's order.

"Alice, I said go. Go join the rest of them."

The one called Alice crept nearer still. "But what of you, sitting here staring out the window?"

_I wish Alice would just leave him alone. She does this every year. It's his fault we're in this mess to begin with…_

"I am where everyone wants: alone, ashamed of my mere existence, excluded from what pitiful life we are permitted."

Alice stood behind the tall, crimson, wingback chair. It was an antique, she guessed, but things stopped being antiques when you realized that you yourself were indeed older than they.

"Edward—"

"Alice! I do not require your company nor do I want it."

Alice forced herself not to be hurt by his words. "I worry about you, Edward. All you ever do is stare out the window at the humans—"

Edward growled in warning, his fingers sinking into the plush leather of the chair.

"—and we all grow so worried. Carlisle, Esme, Rosalie…"

"Rosalie?" he scoffed. "Rosalie has disliked me since I rejected her all those years ago. She began hating me when I cursed us all."

Alice was in front of him in the enveloping mustiness before he could blink. "It's not your fault, she said firmly."

When all he did was grunt, she gathered her skirt and stood. "We'll all be here whenever you're ready to talk." With that, she shut the heavy mahogany door and left him to his thoughts.

It would be nearing mid-day. A glance at the window told him it would still be a while before the humans went to sleep.

Sleep. How many moons like the one that would languidly ascend the sky tonight had passed since he'd slept? _Millions_, he thought. _Too many to ever count._

Meanwhile, Alice trudged down the stairs to the parlor. It was simply laughable that this dreary, cobweb-encased room was the same one that Esme had toiled over, slowly, tediously collecting pieces of art and furniture to render it the most beautiful room in the house. Now all one could say was that it was morbid with just a touch of fashion and creativity, like someone had given up on it.

Which, in a sense, they had.

Carlisle and Esme sat huddled on the settee, his hand rubbing smooth circles on her back. Emmett was on the floor absently flexing his biceps. Rosalie's feet were in his lap and he occasionally stopped to tweak her toes lightly.

But Alice only had eyes for Jasper, her love, her life. He'd been pacing in front of the vastly underused fireplace, but stopped when she entered smiling wearily. He was at her side in an instant, placing the palm of one sinewy hand against her cheek. She held it there with her own dainty pale one, reveling in the fluttering in the stomach.

"No?" he asked.

Alice leaned into his touch. "No," she answered.

Rosalie snorted. "Were you honestly expecting anything different?"

Carlisle gave her a stern look.

"What?" She removed her feet from her lover's lap and examined the others. "I would most certainly be upstairs hating myself if it were me."

A rare scowl flowed onto Esme's face. "Keep in mind that it very well could have bee you, Rosalie."

Alice sank gratefully into Jasper's embrace. Jasper said, with a trace of amusement in his voice, "You've always been one to stick your nose high in the air in matters concerning Edward. Any higher, Rose, and you'll be bending backwards."

Emmett suppressed a smile at Rosalie's look of unbridled fury.

But everyone whirled around to stare at Alice as she suddenly became rigid.

Her eyes glazed over and everything about her cemented. Her hands were still fisted in Jasper's shirt and her chest was still pressed against him, evidence of an unnecessary breath. For that brief period, Alice was by all accounts frozen in time.

Jasper watched her closely, waiting for the second her eyes returned to their normal hue.

Alice came to, gulping air as though she'd been underwater.

"So?" Rosalie demanded.

Alice shook her head, still trying to understand herself. It had been weird, the only one she'd had about the outside world in ages.

**A girl wearing a plain country dress watched a heifer clean her newborn. The remains of a tough labor coated the hay around them. And then…**

Nothing. After that the vision had just dissipated.

"I'm not sure. It was strange."

"Seeing the future is strange, Alice," Rosalie griped.

"That's enough, Rosalie," said Carlisle. "Alice, was it important?"

Alice shook her head. There could be nothing significant about the tidings of a girl and her cow.

Everyone sat in tense quiet before Emmett spoke. "How many has it been, then?"

Esme thought. "Forty-nine?"

Emmett groaned. "Only? It seems like so much longer." For him especially, their house was a jail. He hadn't been outdoors in forty-nine years today. To be confined like a bird in a cage was as close to hell as he'd ever get, he thought. But it wasn't Edward's fault as Rosalie so liked to think.

Rosalie had been his wife for sixty-odd years. Behind that façade of seductive beauty, he knew that she was and would always remain bitter about what had happened to her, what had happened to them all.

The three couples stayed as them were as the minutes crawled by.

Inside the big deteriorating mansion with its wide windows and huge French doors, seven mysterious creatures dwelled, but the old fancy things no longer served as sources of enjoyment. These beings may have lived, but inside them all was a deadness _they_ couldn't even run from.

-------------------

It was a girl, Bella thought joyously.

Less than forty minutes after Mike had left, Millicent had given birth to a bouncing brown baby girl, just as she and Charlie had hoped.

Heifers were much more valuable to a house. They provided milk and more heifers, plus they tended to have sweeter dispositions than their male counterparts. Bulls weren't nearly as lucky. They were of no use other than mates for the heifers and, eventually, fresh meat.

Bella hoped she would have loved a bull as much as she loved Millicent, but deep down, she was greatly comforted.

The calf looked in wonder at its long spindly legs. Millicent's head nudged at the calf's rump, successfully pushing it on its feet. Two seconds off the ground on unsteady limbs, and the baby crashed back to the hay.

"Anna," Bella said to the pair," her name will be Anna."

Anna and her mother snuggled close as the young cow drifted into the land of dreams.

Charlie swung an arm around Bella's shoulders, not surprising her, though she hadn't heard him come in. "You did a fine job, Bells."

Bella beamed, pleased. "I learned from the best."

Charlie should have been happy at her words, but all he could concentrate on was the conversation at Ruby's.

"So, Bells, I hear Mike came around today."

Bella's eyes darkened and suddenly she couldn't face the one person she trusted implicitly. "Yes."

Charlie cleared his throat. "I hear he may have asked you something."

Bella knew Charlie knew about all the previous times Mike had asked her to marry him, but he'd never actually brought the subject to discussion. It was uncomfortable territory for them both and neither wanted to venture there, but Charlie needed to hear it from her.

"I said no, if that's what you want," Bella growled. "As long as I live and breathe, I refuse to marry him."

Charlie, a bit alarmed at the finality in her voice, cleared his throat again to mask his relief. "May I ask why?" he said, and immediately regretted it.

Bella threw her hand in the air and began pacing. "Where should I start?" she whispered angrily, ever aware of the snoring bovines. "He's a pompous, self-serving, snake-in-the-grass. He disapproves of our lifestyle, but I suppose anything short of his home is below his standards, right? Can you believe it, Papa? He actually had the _gall_ to tell me that birthing Anna was unseemly? Unseemly my foot! I can't stand him and his backwards notions of women!" She stopped and finally glanced at Charlie's face. Composing herself, she said, "I just think we're too different."

_That'd be putting it mildly_, Charlie thought.

"You're alright with that, aren't you Papa?" Bella asked misinterpreting his silence.

Alright? Charlie wanted to dance! But he forced himself to calm down and spoke truthfully. "I only want what makes you happy, Bella."

That was why she loved Charlie so much. Never once had he made her feel inferior because of her gender, nor had he allowed Bella to give that as an excuse for any of the tasks life served her. She thought back to the first time she'd ever come home crying.

_She was about six, still young enough for colorful ribbons to adorn her twin pigtails; young enough for the scrapes on her knees to be bandaged and kissed, for loose teeth to be lost and then rewarded with tiny bronze coins._

_Bella came home sobbing brokenly into her soft palms. Charlie emerged from the barn in faded breeches and a blue shirt with sleeves rolled to the elbows. "Bells? What happened?"_

_Her words were jumbled and hard to discern, but he'd become fluent in Bella-speak over the years._

"_They wouldn't let you play? Why not?"_

_Bella sniffed and rubbed at her eyes. "They said girls were too dumb to play."_

_Charlie wanted nothing more than to personally lecture those boys, but this type of thinking was not uncommon. In Forks, women were not exactly revered for their minds. The role of a woman was to be seen and not heard until they were old enough to be wed and then be demure and bear children—preferably sons—and lead the same predictable, monotonous life until their quiet deaths. It was the way it had always been. It was pure scandal if a woman so much as learned to read._

_Charlie was different. The human mind was too precious a thing to waste, male or female, and raising children to be so ignorant was as bad a waste as any._

_He looked into his daughter's blotchy, tear-stained face. "Isabella, never let someone make you believe they're better than you or tell you that you can't do something." Charlie tapped her nose lightly. "You can do anything you want."_

It was that very day that they'd become partners. From there on in, there was nothing that Charlie wouldn't ask for assistance with, no secrets he kept from her.

Bella hugged Charlie tightly. "I love you."

"This I know."

Bella grinned. "Let's go prepare that fish you caught so we can get a head start on the invention."

The two slunk out of the barn leaving the slumbering mother and her child in their wake.


	3. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

"Please, Edward."

The full moon was out, casting an eerie glow around the somber room. Edward still sat in the high-backed, red armchair, his posture both lazy and stiff at the same time.

"Why do you even bother, Alice? I brought this on you all. You should be glad to see me go."

Alice's pixie-like face hardened. She pried his fingers open roughly and shoved the crystal tumbler into his icy grasp. The scarlet fluid sloshed over the side onto her thin fingers. In a movement he almost didn't see, she licked them clean.

"Drink. You may very well leave us someday, Edward, but I'll be damned if I'll allow it to happen while we still have plenty. Now _drink_."

Edward hungrily gulped down the hot, sticky liquid like a dying man. Alice watched this, an almost feral look in her eyes, until the glass was clean.

"More," Edward rasped.

Alice nodded dutifully and passed him another goblet and another after that. It was an amazing thing to observe was Edward's eyes lightened from an opaque, foggy black to a shade of amber that matched her own.

"Thank you," he said lowering his head in shame.

"You mustn't thank me for taking care of those I love, Edward." She gave his hand a squeeze and went back to the door.

_There has to be _some_ way to break the curse. We've been cooped up for too long, Edward most of all._

"Don't you think I'd have thought of that, Alice?" he said, although his tone wasn't harsh, just somewhat resigned. "The conditions of our release are impossible."

"Conditions?"

Suddenly Edward realized that he'd said too much. He stayed mute, hoping Alice would drop the subject, but his efforts were futile.

"You said something, Edward, and I'd like you to elaborate." Alice's voice was civil, but her flashing eyes and thinned lips implied otherwise.

Edward rubbed the bridge of his nose tiredly. "Alice, I understand how you may be upset—"

Alice let loose a bark of mirthless laughter. "Yes, I suppose you could say that I'm just a bit irked at the fact that you never once in forty-nine years deigned it necessary to mention that there's a way to break the very spell that has made up prisoners in our own home."

To veil his remorse, Edward permitted himself to get angry. "I could do without your sardonic remarks, Alice," he retorted.

"Oh, dear Edward. I believe I more than deserve the _privilege _to be sardonic after forty-nine years of being in the dark."

_What's going on up there? Alice and Edward never argue,_ Esme thought.

"Alice, I don't have the energy to have it out with you now, so if you don't mind…" Edward rose, but Alice pushed him back into a sitting position.

"Alice!" he choked, his eyes wide as dinner plates.

"No, you listen. _I'll_ talk. You may escape from me now, Edward Masen Cullen, but just realize that until you talk to us, and I mean _all_ of us—most of whom are pressing their ears to the door as we speak—that we will be hounding you, every second of every day." She picked up one of the heavy wine glasses and hurled it at his head. Edward ducked just in time and whirled around to see the shimmering shards covering the floor. Alice stormed out, her fiery presence lingering like a perfume even after he was once again alone in the room.

As soon as Alice stepped into the hall, she was bombarded with questions.

"Alice, what in the—"

"—world just went on—"

"—in there? Was Edward—"

"—serious? Can it be possible that we—"

"—could break the spell?"

Alice held up a hand. "I ca—just not now."

Esme, Jasper, Rosalie, and Emmett stood in stunned soundlessness.

Esme broke the silence. "Well, it seems we'll be getting nothing out of either of those two tonight. Shall we retire to bed?" This was posed as a question, but they respected Esme too much to argue. Grumbling, they retreated to their respective rooms.

--------------------

Jasper slipped inside the door to his and Alice's room. Alice lay on the bed, a blue pillow covering her face. He loved her, this woman who both could drive him up the wall and render him speechless. He sunk onto the mattress and removed the pillow.

"Why would he do this?"

Jasper shrugged knowing what she needed now more than ever were his ears, not his mouth.

"How could he lie for forty-nine years?"

Again, Jasper let her question hang in the air.

"Jazz, forty-nine years, and he knew all along how to set us all free." She turned to him, burying her face in his shoulder as tearless sobs wracked her body.

--------------------

Rosalie kicked a chair and the leg broke.

"Rose—"

"No." Rosalie turned on her husband savagely. "There is no way I'm going to stand here and listen to you defend him _again_. There can be no possible explanation for this one."

"Rosalie, _please_. Give him a chance. He could…" Emmett paused, trying to summon the words to shield Edward from Rosalie's wrath but he only managed to find himself almost as angry. "Well, at least let him explain."

Rosalie left and returned with bedcovers and a pillow in her arms. "You can lie on the floor tonight. You aren't staying in my bed."

"_Me_? What did _I _do? Edward's the one who—"

Rosalie just shook her head, blonde ringlets bouncing. She crawled into the wide bed she usually shared with Emmett. "Good night, dear," she growled.

--------------------

Carlisle looked up when Esme entered. "Did I just hear what I think I heard?"

Esme sighed. "You tell me. I'm still reeling from the impact." She set herself in his lap and wrapped her long pale arms around his neck.

"So how are the rest taking it? Alice, at least, is a tad stressed."

Esme laughed. That word seemed so inadequate for what they were all experiencing. "Carlisle, I don't want to imagine what this could mean," she said when his toned arms came to circle her waist. "I don't want to think about it because I don't want to set myself up for disappointment."

"We're in this together, Esme, now and forever."

Esme leaned her forehead against his. "I love you."

Carlisle touched his lips to hers softly. "And I, you."

--------------------

Bella kicked the sheets off again.

She'd never had problems with sleep before, but she and her once-familiar friend wanted to separate things. Perhaps it was the events that had transpired today: she'd been proposed to, after all. And then Billy Black and his son Jacob had arrived in time for dinner. Needless to say, she and Charlie hadn't gotten anything done on the invention.

After the fish dinner—during which Jacob had blushed at any attempt on her part to strike up a conversation—they'd all sat in the living room. Charlie and Billy relayed past fishing expeditions, laughing boisterously at their conquests and the ones both had fabricated for the sake of appearances. Jacob and Bella had laughed with them, easing into the spirit after several ciders.

"So, Bella, are you too old for ghost stories?" Billy had asked, all the while ignoring his son's subtle coughs.

"No!" Bella responded enthusiastically, her interest piqued.

"Dad." Jacob frowned and shook his head.

"Vampires. Soul-sucking creatures of the night." That was where it had begun and his story had expanded into something monstrous.

Even when she was a little girl, Bella hadn't believed in the monsters under her bed. Charlie had always made her believe she was strong enough to overcome anything.

But from these vampires, she wasn't sure anyone was safe.

When Charlie had suggested the Blacks get on the road, she'd still been spooked out of her mind. Then he'd shaken her out of the trance.

"Bells, Billy comes from people who like to believe such stories. But they're just stories."

_Just stories, Silly Bella._

_Vampires aren't real._

It comforted her slightly and she forgot all about the beasts Billy had woven haunting tales about. Bella's mind wound back to Mike Newton, an unpleasant yet brighter topic, and she fell into the realm of dreams.

--------------------

_Bella._

Bella rolled over once and snuggled deeper into her dream.

_Bella. Bella? BELLA!_

Bella shot up in bed. The first thing she saw was Charlie so excited he was nearly bouncing.

"Bells! You'll never believe it! Come see, come see!" Charlie ran out of her bedroom, and after rubbing the sleep from her eyes, Bella—groggy and disoriented—stumbled behind him.

They made their way to the barn. "Close your eyes, Bella," said Charlie, pausing at the door.

Bella truly hated surprises, but she couldn't say no to the childlike anticipation on her father's face. "Alright, Papa, they're closed."

Charlie grinned and pulled the door open.

Millicent and Anna cowered **(A/N: No pun intended…)** in a corner warily eying a lumpy large _thing_ under a cloth. Charlie took Bella's hands and pulled her towards it. Checking once again that her eyes were indeed shut, he snatched the cloth off.

"Ta-da!" he announced as Bella opened her eyes.

It was by far the most complex thing Bella had ever seen. There was even no structure, just a great bunch of do-dads and what-nots stringed together. Nonetheless, it filled her heart with pride to see it.

"Papa! You finished it!"

Charlie smiled. "You want to see if it works?"

Together, they tugged at a heavy lever, activating Charlie's contraption. It whirred, clicked, banged, tinkled, buzzed, and hummed, but all the wing-dings were just glitter and noise. What really amazed her was when an axe at the front of the machine swung down in a perfect arc and split a log in two.

"It works!"

Bella watched as log after log was chopped by Charlie's invention. There was no doubt in her mind that he'd win first prize at the fair.

Charlie turned back to her. "Get packed; we're leaving in twenty minutes."

"I can be ready in ten," Bella said.

Bella and Charlie sped off to their rooms, randomly shoving clothes into a sack. Halfway through her packing, she stopped.

"Papa."

Bella stood in the doorway to Charlie's room. "What's wrong, Bells? We'll need to get going if we're going to make it to Ternett tonight." He tied up the sack and slung it over his shoulder.

Sighing, Bella leaned against his dresser. "Papa, I can't come with you."

"Well, of course you ca—what?"

"You're forgetting Millicent and Anna, Papa. We can't just leave them here."

Charlie sunk onto his mattress. "Okay, then we'll bring them with us."

Bella gave him a level look. "You know very well we can't bring a day-old calf on a two day trip. And Millicent won't allow anyone but us to come near Anna. I'll have to stay."

Truly stumped, Charlie's shoulders fell and he said, "But…I wanted you to be there with me."

Bella felt like crying. "I know, Papa. But you'll remember everything and tell me all about it. Don't worry about me; if I get lonely, I'll ask Angela to come for a bit."

Although he was thoroughly disgusted by this plan, he knew Bella was right. "Alright, Bells. Help me saddle up Phil, will you?"

Within twenty minutes, the contraption was loaded onto a cart, the horse was hitched to it and Charlie was swinging himself into the saddle. "Bye, Bells," he said leaning down to peck her cheek, "be safe while I'm gone."

"I will. Bring me back that blue ribbon."

Charlie smiled fondly. "I will."

Phil plodded down the drive and the cart swayed. Bella desperately wished she was alongside her father riding Clem and on her way to Ternett where they'd be stopping for the night at an inn. She forced a grin and waved until they were out of sight.

--------------------

"Esme, can I talk to you?"

Esme looked up. "Of course you can, Alice." She patted the sofa beside her. Alice sat down gingerly and folded her hands in her lap. Esme shut her book, sensing Alice's need to vent.

"Is this about Edward?"

Alice nodded. "He's still holed up in there not talking to anyone. God! How could he just sit there and watch us all rot?" If Esme was offended by these words, her features gave no indication. "I've _always_ defended him when Rosalie started on him, haven't I? You and me, Carlisle, Jasper, Emmett, but he lied to us, Esme."

Esme smiled but it didn't reach her eyes. These same things had been running through her mind but it was left to her to provide a bit of maternal wisdom. "He has his reasons, sweet."

Alice stared, her mouth agape. "Do-do you _know_?"

"I know no more than you, but I've lived with Edward for a long time and I know without a shadow of doubt that, although he may not take the orthodox route, he always thinks of others before himself." She reached down and smoothed Alice's short, spiky hair when the she rested her head on her shoulder. "I love him, as I love you, and I won't pass judgment on his choices until he's had a chance to explain." _At least, not out loud._

"He's had plenty of time to explain," Alice retorted heatedly.

Esme patted Alice's thigh. "Yesterday, we let you go and what did you do?"

Alice tried to remember. "I went to my room where I could be angry properly."

Esme laughed, a beautiful tinkling laugh. "Yes, but _after_ all of that, you came to me and asked to speak to me. I left you to be, ahem, 'angry properly' and then you came to talk to me of your own accord. Edward will too; wait and see."

Why did Esme always have to be right? And then why did she have to be so kind afterwards, not giving you that haughty 'I-told-you-so' look that so often graced Rosalie's face?

"Yes, I suppose."

The elder of the two smiled softly. "It's most difficult for you because you're closest to him and you're wondering why he didn't tell you most of all."

Alice's jaw clenched and she wondered how Esme could know so much when she did so little to find things out. "This isn't about me, Esme."

"Alice," Esme reproved, "I understand. You need to realize that as well before you'll even begin the healing process."

Alice murmured, "He didn't hurt me, if that's what you want."

"No," said Esme, "not on the outside. Your wounds are deep, but they cannot be seen. Those are the hardest to get over. Remember that Edward would never do anything to hurt you, Alice. Not intentionally."

Alice relaxed against her a groaned. "How did you get so good at this, Esme?"

"Practice, practice, practice."

--------------------

Charlie knew Bella better probably than he knew himself. He knew her favorite books, her favorite foods, and all of her personality quirks. He knew how she poured herself into everything she did and had a sense of compassion, overwhelming in someone so young.

But he'd also known that behind her pleasant countenance and cheerful wave, she'd been aching to hop aboard the cart and accompany him.

He and Bella were kindred spirits, cut from the same cloth. For him to go on a journey like this—small as it was—without her was tearing at them both. Already he'd turned back twice to head for home.

Charlie shook his head to clear his thoughts and looked at the map. There were winding roads and extra lines and creases all over the map making it near impossible to read.

"Where in the world are we?"

He and Phil had backtracked millions of times over to the point that cart wheels and horse tracks peppered most of the woods and surrounding landscape.

Phil whinnied, eager to get going as the sun was already sinking.

"Steady, boy," said Charlie patting the old horse's neck.

They rode on mutely with the only noises coming from Phil's hooves and the squeaks the cart made on the rough terrain.

At a fork in the road, Charlie halted again.

One path was serpentine in shape and would potentially do damage to his invention. However, the other was dark and shrouded in darkness provided by the trees flanking either side.

"Er…"

To be stuck on a trail and have to travel at night, or to be in darkness for a short period and make it to Ternett on schedule; either was unsavory, but Charlie opted for the latter.

Phil, on the other hand, had always been afraid of the dark and wasn't at all obliged to do down the chosen trail, but was powerless to object when his master climbed down and stroked his nose reassuringly.

Charlie led the way, aware of Phil's skittishness. Both were happy to discover that the road offered no frightening surprises along the way.

"See,"said Charlie, "nothing at all to be scared of."

But whether he was reminding himself or the horse, he didn't know.

--------------------

Bella strolled into Ruby's missing Charlie. The house just seemed so empty without his booming laugh and sunny disposition. It was better to be lonely alone, she thought, that to be surrounded by reminders of her father.

But Ruby's wasn't empty as she'd hoped. Far from it. Ruby barely had time for a casual nod in Bella's direction before she bustled off to clear tables and serve others.

There were men everywhere. Much too many men, Bella mused blushing, and not all of them appeared to have manners judging by the leers at her as she struggled to find a table. She'd never seen Ruby's so packed. Those too unfortunate to find a table stood, some loitering with hands shoved deep inside their pockets, some holding ale glasses and chatting idly with the men nearby. The air smelled stale with the stench of old beers and dirty customers.

_What strange people, _Bella reflected.

Ruby was zooming around the diner faster than Bella had ever seen her move, looking harassed and exhausted, but still managing to appear totally in control of the mob in her diner. Bella tried to catch her several times, but she was always back and forth, shooting off first in one direction, then in the other too quickly for Bella to try and keep up.

Ruby finally stopped at the bar long enough for Bella to approach her.

"Ruby, what's going on?" she shouted above the din.

Ruby hastily retied her hair as strands begun to fall. "Bella, dear, the fair. People on their way get hungry. Some have been here since noon. THIS IS NOT A TAVERN!" Ruby yelled, and then sniffed.

Astounded, Bella asked, "Ruby, are you…crying?"

Ruby shook her head impatiently, her thick hair spilling from the band again. "I don't even have _time_ to cry. I've been swamped _all day_."

"I'll help."

The barmaid laughed. "Bella, I wish you could, but—"

Before she could even protest, Bella was tying her own brunette mane back and fastening on a white apron over her blue dress.

"The ciders go to the elderly gentlemen in the booth in the corner," Ruby said half-heartedly.

It was chaos.

There was no sense of order at all. Bella couldn't imagine how Ruby had done it all alone when there were so many things to keep straight in her head. The rest of the night, the pair flitted to and fro. Take the order, make the order, and deliver the order. Take, make, deliver. Bella—more than flustered at how the crowd never seemed to shrink, but instead doubled, tripled until she could hardly walk around the diner without tripping—was unused to people barking requests, but quickly got into the swing of things.

Eight o'clock, nine o'clock, ten o'clock came and went and finally the mass began to dwindle down. Ruby went out back to fetch another cider keg and Bella focused on taking orders and paying attention to those that had paid and those that had yet to be served.

"Hello," she said walking to a table with a smile fixed on her face. The man's head was almost completely concealed by the tall menu. "Welcome to Ruby's. What can I get you?"

The stranger muttered something unintelligible.

"Come again?"

"You," he said more clearly, and dropped the menu.

"Mike?"

Disgusted, Bella turned to tend to a couple of men dressed in fishing gear.

"Bella, wait." Mike reached out and wrapped one of his hands around her wrist.

"Mike, I have to get to the other _paying_ customers."

"Two minutes," he said. "Please."

Resigned, Bella settled in the chair across from him. "Two minutes," she confirmed.

Mike twirled a large signet ring on his middle finger. It was the kind you pressed into the wax on an envelope. The letters M. N. gleamed at her powerfully, twirled in an elaborate design. It infuriated her. She'd never been one to hedge over how she and Charlie had so very little money to spare, but Mike was openly parading his wealth, though everyone already knew he had thousands. Her eyes narrowed infinitesimally, but Mike was too occupied with his money-symbol to notice. "I realize what kind of person you are, Belle. I understand that you believe in love."

Could he honestly be telling her that he had given up? Could it be possible that simple Bella Swan of no royal heritage, noble blood, or even wealth had finally defeated the undefeatable Mike Newton?

"And I'm willing to wait for you to fall in love with me—"

Bella stood up, all of her hopes crushed. "I don't believe this," she muttered.

"Belle? Belle? Bella? I'm not finished yet, Belle! At least hear me out!"

Bella pretended she couldn't hear him until he finally gave up and left. Ruby's was infinitely more enjoyable after that, she decided.

--------------------

Another vision. And once again, it was concerning a human girl. Alice was fairly sure it was the same one, but this time she was hurrying around a room packed with other human, with two large plates balanced on her hands. It appeared to be some sort of eating establishment. As before, Alice was only offered this tiny glimpse and then it was gone, almost like someone had accidentally flipped on a switch and then made haste to flip it back off.

However, given the state of things, Alice had little time to dawdle. She'd never been a patient person and she had to continually remind herself if Esme's advice to keep from storming to Edward's room and shaking the truth from him.

_Still, why am I only getting these visions now? In almost fifty years, it's only now. I must be growing senile in my old age._

At a knock on her door, she said, "Come in."

Edward stood in the doorway. "Alice."

She refused to look at him. Better yet, she wouldn't even glance in his general direction.

_I wonder, is he going to tell me?_

"No, Alice."

Alice growled, frowning at the floorboards. "I'd appreciate it if you stayed out of my head, Edward. You may hear some of my ruder thoughts."

Edward spread his hands. "I'll try, but no guarantees."

Avoiding his pleading gaze, Alice said, "While I'd love to spend another forty-nine years exchanging pleasantries, I suggest you say your piece quickly, before I lose the will to speak to you."

He had no right to be angry, but Edward felt his agitation bubbling up and with it, regret.

He ruthlessly squashed them both.

"Alice, I'm sorry if I hurt you. You've always been so good to me. For that I am truly sorry. But I can't apologize for what I did."

Alice glared at the wall. "So you are sorry you hurt us." It was more of a statement than a question, but Edward nodded.

"But you are not sorry for _how_ you managed to do so."

He nodded again.

Alice looked him square in the eye, her amber orbs meeting his slightly darker ocher ones. "Then I have nothing to say to you." With that, she turned her back on him, perhaps for forever.

--------------------

According to the map, they were still hours away from Ternett. Charlie swore and began searching for alternate routes. The lines on the old parchment crisscrossed every which way and he'd had to light one of him only lanterns to even be able to see it.

Overhead, the heavy black clouds thundered ominously. Phil whinnied nervously and Charlie patted the horse's neck absently.

_So many roads; which is the right one?_

The fuel in the lantern was diminishing fast as was the flickering flame.

A lone howl rose in the night startling Charlie. The lantern fell to the black fog swirling at Phil's lean legs.

"Blast!" Charlie swung off the horse and went to the cart. While he was rummaging in the dark, a second howl joined the first.

A bead of perspiration blossomed on his forehead.

Before long, vicious snarls and the snapping of teeth joined the mix.

_Wolves_, Charlie thought and he immediately climbed back onto the saddle. Going to fetch another lantern would mean risking both of their lives. He gently prodded the horse's stomach with his heels, urging Phil to walk.

And walk he did, but Charlie couldn't stop the animal from glancing about fearfully any more than he could stop the rapid thumping of his own heart. Both jumped at twig snaps or when a leaf blew by, pushed by the night wind.

Minutes dragged on and transformed into an hour. The wolves were just a passing memory; it was as if Charlie had never heard them.

The moved to a low outcropping of trees and Charlie ducked his head to avoid the branches. But their presence had alerted and disturbed the things hanging in the trees.

Bats, more than Charlie had ever heard, swarmed, squeaking wildly and flapping madly. They circled around frenzied and frightened above Charlie and Phil's heads, chattering to convey messages to others.

Phil was more scared that he'd been in his entire life. Old and weary, he could see neither hide nor hair of the bats; he could only hear their high-pitched screeching that seemed to come at him from all sides. Terrified, he reared on him hind legs, his front ones kicking out at the invisible enemy.

Charlie tried to calm the spooked horse and only managed to lose his balance and hit the solid unyielding ground with a thud. He rubbed at his smarting backside, all the while trying to sooth his horse.

"Shh, Phil. Shh! Settle down!"

But Charlie couldn't even hear his own voice what with the panic pressing and smashing him. Phil yelped and reared again, then galloped away blindly, leaving a truly horrified Charlie behind.

It was another five minutes before Charlie could breathe. The bats were gone, which, he thought, was a lot worse. All the quiet left him exposed and vulnerable to the magnified forest noises.

"Phil!"

It would be useless trying to find him in the compressing, suffocating night. Charlie seized in fear and then tried to recall all that he had been taught oh so long ago.

_Keep close to the nearest source of water to find your way, but not so close that thirsty beasts may stumble upon you: a free easy meal._

But the silence was just so…loud. Charlie was hyper-aware of all the strange sounds in the woods. The absolute quiet was maddening and he startled at the slightest twig snap. His hearing had heightened where his vision had dimmed. If he concentrated and filtered out the empty soundless void, he could hear the faint trickle of water. A stream perhaps?

Filled with an awed sense of hope at his own instincts, Charlie stumbled towards the sound. The branches chafed and scratched at his face like the claws of hell and his lungs burned, but finally he made it to the stream.

He lowered himself to the bank and drank hungrily. It was then, in that moment of sheer submission to his weariness, that he spotted the two luminous yellow eyes watching him from the other bank.

--------------------

Bella found herself in the barn.

Millicent and Anna lay on the hay, unconsciously curled into each other in sleep.

_A miracle_, she mused_, one couldn't ask for more._

Anna looked so much like her mother, each a deep brown with the occasional white spot. Bella reached out a hand to stroke Millicent's large head lovingly, still amazed at how much the bond between the cows was so similar to hers and Charlie's.

Cold. Millicent's normally warm, tender body was cold.

"Millicent," Bella said shaking her. "Millicent you need to wake up. You're frozen. I have to give you some medicine and you need to sit by the fire." Bella could almost laugh at the cow's adamant efforts to stay asleep; Millicent had always been that way.

The huge bovine suddenly rolled over, propelled by Bella's tugs. Bella let out a blood-curdling scream.

Millicent's eyes, her beautiful, milky eyes were dead and unseeing.

"Millie!" she sobbed over and over as though the name could bring back the one it belonged to. "Millicent, my poor sweet Millie."

Tears rolled off her cheeks like raindrops; fast, endless, bitter.

Anna.

Bella's trembling hands sought the calf, although somehow she knew that Anna had met the same fate as her mother.

She prayed, feverishly and fervently, to all the gods she'd ever heard of and a few she hadn't. That's when she noticed the two identical things that made her jaw drop in horror.

The pin-pricks, tiny holes in Anna's neck encrusted in dried blood.


	4. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

Carlisle's least favorite part of the house was the cellar. It was damp with unidentified moldy things sprouting on the walls, but he'd never complain. What good would it do to whine about going there when he had to at least twice a month?

Despite the less than satisfactory creepy-crawlies it beheld, the cellar was their source of life. Dusty aged wine bottles lined the walls, each containing the exact same amount of liquid. Carlisle selected one at random, pulling the heavy glass down from its slot with ease. The second his back was turned, another appeared in the empty hole. Carlisle refused to see this trick of his eyes each and every time he had to creep down to the cellar.

But he couldn't avoid the roses.

There were red roses erect, so unnaturally erect, all in a straight line. And Carlisle didn't need to count them to know that there'd be forty-nine, one for each of the years they'd been detained in the dusty mansion. The day before—though he hadn't descended the cellar stairs in close to two weeks—a new rose had joined the ranks of the stiff soldiers.

_Why?_

Edward had certainly held fast to his secret. Like a dog to a damn bone. An admirable feat—one deserving of high commendation as no one had ever kept a secret for long—had it been another secret.

ANY other secret.

It was growing increasingly difficult to convince himself that Edward had done the right thing.

_Right for whom, _his conscience asked in a bitter voice eerily close to his own, _for whom could it be right to lie for almost fifty years?_

But as the unofficial leader of the household, he had to be strong for the others. Edward was acting on behalf of the creatures trapped with him, right? They hadn't been confined for years without anyone but the rest and the grime in the walls for company for no reason, right?

There was only one creature who could answer all the burning questions, and he was still adamantly keeping his mouth shut.

-------------------

Charlie was sure that his heart had stopped.

The eyes surveyed him almost lazily, blinking slowly and deliberately. Charlie's stomach clenched painfully as his mind determined what was staring at him.

A wolf.

The stream that had before appeared to be so wide and plentiful was now thin and pitiful. This tiny trickle was the only thing separating him from the obviously hungry beast.

He mentally cursed himself for believing it could be that simple. Really, how could navigating and surviving the woods be so easy? Now that his instincts had fallen through, he had to rely on common sense.

Maintain eye contact.

No sudden movements.

And above all, don't panic; wolves could smell fear.

A leaf crunched beneath his heel and the wolf tensed. In the moonlight, its fur was silver with flecks of red and the hairs on its neck stood on end at the sudden disturbance. Its lips peeled back in a snarl, erasing all its previous serenity, and fangs tinged with blood gleamed menacingly.

Charlie was sure this gesture has caused the monster to double in size.

With its prey virtually immobilized in fright, the wolf crouched low then sprang high into the air.

_Run! For God's sake, run!_

But Charlie couldn't get his feet to move; it was as if the forest floor had sucked them in and refused to let go.

The wolf landed on the cusp of the bank and the water, grasping at dry land with its paws.

Charlie's legs finally began to move while the wolf struggled, still maintaining its look of utter contempt.

Charlie ran, faster and harder than he'd ever done. Compared to the nimble, flexible animal that had gotten its bearings and was nipping ferociously at his heels, Charlie was a bumbling, blundering meal; it was just a matter of exhausting his meager strength and then the feasting would commence.

Charlie scrambled over roots and under branches, praying that he could just keep running. For how long, he wasn't sure. All he was sure about was that the creature tailing him would be merciless with no pity for the stupid prey that had wandered into its midst.

A fallen log, thick with moss and fungi tripped Charlie who landed on his stomach. A sharp _crack!_ alerted him that something had broken—a rib?—but all he could concentrate on were the hushed sounds of the wolf padding ever closer.

The pain was _excruciating_ as Charlie tried and failed in the effort of raising himself. Vaguely, he noticed that five other wolves had joined the first. Saliva rolled in rivulets down their fangs, all eager and ready to tear into his soft flesh.

_I'm going to die_, Charlie thought as darkness fought to overcome his vision.

Thunder crashed somewhere in the distance and Charlie thought about how the wolves would eat him and then his remains would be washed away with the impending rain.

The snarls that had terrified him transformed to whimpers and yelps. A bright light suddenly obscured his vision and Charlie saw the angel of death. She was before him dressed in a pale green gown. Her feet never seemed to touch the ground, though she took several steps towards him before kneeling. Charlie thought she looked very pale, and those _eyes_. Red and intense, he was almost frightened.

_But she's beautiful. She looks so much like Bella._

The angel smiled sadly down on him and he was glad that she'd be the last thing he saw before he passed on. She reached down a hand and placed it on his cheek. It was cold, Charlie thought, but not unpleasant, just…unexpected.

Her voice, melodious and perfect, startled him.

"Charles."

The angel's lips didn't move at all. She continued to smile as the words played themselves in Charlie's head.

"Sometimes, fate has a hand in things, dear Charles. Please understand why we are doing this."

_She doesn't have to explain anything, as long as she'll keep talking. I don't mind. _Gone from his memory were the wolves. _I'm so happy. I just miss Bella._

"It's not always set in stone what happens to mortals, Charles. I cannot put into words what a difference this might make. Do not miss this opportunity. You will only get one."

_Only get one of what? Opportunity? When?_

Her smile drooped slightly, but Charlie didn't notice. "Believe me when I say that I wish it could be easier."

Charlie closed his eyes, a smile fixed upon his face. _Death isn't so bad. Not nearly as bad as they all say._

"It has begun," the angel intoned and Charlie knew no more.

------------------------

Bella sat up drenched in cold sweat that trickled down her spine and left her breathless.

She squinched her eyes shut trying to recall the dream and remind herself that it was just that—a dream.

Anna. Millie.

Bella scrambled down the steps stumbling and falling several times. Just as she neared the end of the staircase, her head hit the banister of the stair railing with a sickening _crack!_ and an odor filled the air.

It reminded her of all the things wrong with the world. It was salty and rusty and her nose wrinkled in distaste before her mind finally connected what it was.

Blood.

Her legs failed her and she slid to the floor clutching her head. Her hands pulled away with a red sticky liquid and the room began to spin, whirling faster and faster into one blur buzzing around her head.

"Oh," she moaned as he head throbbed.

Unsteadily, she rose to her feet and staggered towards the door, aiming to make it do Dr. Johnson's house. Though it was still summer, the night air nipped at her naked toes and her teeth chattered together in a rhythm that matched the hesitant pitter-patter of her steps. She got to the end of her driveway before she collapsed.

_Papa, _Bella thought weakly, _where are you?_

------------------------

Edward stared outside the window that dominated most of the wall of his room. It was night, his least favorite part of the existence he considered monstrous.

_Because I _am _a monster._

He could see the sleepy town of Forks with its residents most likely tucked away safely in bed enjoying the night and its comforts. Night, to them, was a time to reflect on one's activities during the day and fall into the loving arms of pleasant dreams and then arise anew to a fresh day once more.

Edward could and would not.

There had been a time when being a monster had not been nearly as terrible, when he and his family had lived with some semblance of normality amongst the rest of civilization.

But, Edward mused, I was lying then too. We just pretended to be normal, pretended to be _human_.

Although everyone, Alice included, was upset with him, Edward truly thought he had done the right thing in lying to them. False hope, as he'd come to learn almost fifty years prior, was worse than death.

Death was all around him. The unkempt lawn and flower bed that had been Esme's pride and joy now lay in waste to the weeds and vines that had overcome them. The night sounds, those of the terrified shriek of the prey and the satisfied purr of the predator, haunted him. Because Edward could hear them all, every last sound from the _ribbit_ of a toad and shuffle of feet on grass.

Tonight was different, though. Instead, the sparse air was filled with silence, which was, if possible, even worse than the noise.

A sudden _bang!_ brought Edward back to reality. It was in the distance somewhere, though not far enough that the sound was faint. Edward heard it as clearly as if it had been in the next room.

Then the silence was back.

For an immeasurable period of time, Edward sat tensed in his chair, senses acutely tuned in the task of listening for a sound. Something somewhere was happening and his curiosity wanted to know what.

A smell filled the air, one so sweet and delicious, the likes of which Edward has never before smelled. His eyes closed in sheer bliss and his blood raced to find where it came from.

He leapt onto the window sill and pushed at the glass. Desperate to get to the source of that mouth-watering scent, his muscles bulged as he shoved uselessly at the window with a force that could have bent steel. Regardless, strength was futile against magic, the force that held up against Edward's mighty pale arms.

Edward sobbed tearlessly and hid his perfect face in his hands. What good was it to be immortal, to have what every human craved, when all you wanted to do was be dead?

He blinked up at the window, still hoping to catch a glimpse of the thing creating the smell. He watched with fascination as a human girl stumbled out the door of her home in a nightgown and then fell to the ground after a few tiny steps.

He took no notice of her appearance or that it was unusual for a human to be awake at this hour. Edward was focused on one thing, and one thing alone. From her head ran a substance that he had gone without for 104 years.

Human blood.

------------------------

When he awoke, he was alone.

Charlie rubbed at his ribcage and was surprised to find that the pain had vanished. It was perplexing to say the least, but he was more concerned about the odd dream that he'd just had.

There was…a woman, a beautiful kind _angel_, and an opportunity that she may have mentioned. Charlie closed his eyes trying to recall all that had occurred in his pain-induced stupor, but came up with nothing.

It was still dark with the moon shadowed by the tangle of tree limbs above his head. Charlie rose slowly and brushed the dirt off of his clothes, still in awe of the lack of pain. There were still hours before the sun would rise and remaining in the forest would be suicidal, at the very least.

Billy's words played in his ear from the night when he and Jacob had stayed for dinner. Charlie'd thought the rhyme silly at the time, something concocted to scare the children, but it was terribly ironic how that same phrase chilled his spine now that he didn't have that reassurance that he and Bella were safe.

_There are things that lurk in the night/ in the forests as you dream/ laughing cruelly as you scream/ the likes of which no man before has ever seen…_

…and lived, Billy had added with a dark chuckle. No one had ever come back alive after an encounter with these "vampires."

Nonsense is what it was. Because there was certainly nothing to frighten a grown man such as he.

…Right?

As the wind whipped through the trees, Charlie was sorely tempted to climb a tree and wait for morning. His horse and his invention were probably long gone by now and there was no chance of him surviving if he stayed within distance of the forest's hungry predators.

Then he heard it: a wolf's howl.

He didn't stop to think that the wolf could have even been far away. Two words flashed into his mind: _Not again._

Charlie broke into an awkward run, that of someone who has recently been healed and doesn't want to injure themselves again.

Panting and wheezing as the sweat ran into his mop of brown hair and his eyes, Charlie lumbered on and on until he couldn't even remember what it meant to not be running.

The howl raised into the night air once more, its ominous tone bouncing off the oaks and clutching Charlie's heart with fear.

A mountain appeared in the distance and Charlie slowed to a stop. Strange, he wasn't far enough for there to be mountains of any sort and they hadn't been on the map. It was squarer than any mountain he'd ever seen, almost as though they were manmade. The howl resounded, closer this time, and he sprinted forward again, completely forgetting the illogic of it all.

The wolf was gaining speed and Charlie was sure he wouldn't have the strength to fight once it caught him.

_Dear God, save me! _he thought desperately as the mysterious mountains loomed ever closer.

From his vantage point, he could see that the mountain was obscured by a tangled mess of vines. They crisscrossed all over it and seemed to be strangling it. But this was the least of his concerns because he could hear the wolf.

_Keep running! Don't give up!_

He ran doggedly, refusing to accept the fate that the wolf had laid out for him and reached a heavy iron gate. He'd simply overlooked it before as it too was covered with vines. He crashed into the gates heavily and began eagerly working at the vines that held together the latch. The ropes were thick as a vice and seemed very adamant about keeping their grip on the latch, but Charlie's anxious adrenaline rush made him pull even harder until at least, the vines gave way.

To Charlie's dismay, the latch had rusted over and despite how many times he shook the gate, it refused to budge.

By now the wolf was close enough to see its yellow eyes wide with hunger. It raised its lips in an evil smile and bowed low in mock deference to Charlie. Frantic, Charlie searched the ground for something to defend himself with and saw only twigs and leaves.

The wolf sprang into the air and in a final act of defiance, Charlie kicked at the heavy gates with his boot. The latch sprung open like magic and he hastily moved inside.

The wolf landed just before the gates in the spot he'd just vacated and Charlie shivered thinking of how close he'd tangoed with death.

He rubbed his hands swiftly up and down his arms, only just now realizing how chilly it was. He swiveled around to regard the mountain and saw that it wasn't a mountain at all.

It was a house.

He crossed the span of the yard to the front door and knocked tentatively.

No one answered. Again and again he knocked, until he was finally satisfied that the house was abandoned. It would do for shelter until morning, he supposed. Sighing in relief, he depressed the handle of the ancient doorknob.

Inside it was dark. Much darker that outside, Charlie thought, almost too dark to be natural. The musty smell of a house that hasn't been aired out in months flew to his nostrils as his eyes tried to adjust to the lighting (or lack thereof).

He stumbled into what felt like a settee, although he couldn't be sure. Consumed by an overwhelming sense of sleepiness, he sunk onto it and fell into a deep sleep.


	5. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four**

There was a human in the house.

This defied all logic. It was just passing fact that humans actually existed in a world beyond the doors of the mansion. Why should humans matter when your livelihood was being wrenched away from you little by little with each passing day?

Alice shook her head. First the visions about that human girl, and now this?

She crept down the steps silently, clutching a lit candle in one hand and following the alluring scent of the human. Since she'd awakened cold and alone all those years before, she'd had nothing but animal blood. And yet…the pull of the scent was so _strong_. It wrapped around her pleasantly, cradling her like a mother does an infant. Why in the world should she try so hard to run away?

Then she saw him.

He was curled up on the settee in a fetal position, lost in the realm of dreams. _What would it matter if just once, I let go?_ She imagined, running the pros and cons through her head systematically. _Who would ever know that I'd even done it?_

The human breathed deeply and for a fleeting second he nestled back into sleep. Then his eyes shot open as though he'd known he was being watched.

Alice blinked owlishly at him. He rubbed his eyes and yawned, sitting up. Too stunned to move, Alice simply stood and accepted her position as voyeur; his humanistic ways were making her feel as though she should leave even though he was the intruder.

"Oh!" he said, regarding her in surprise.

Alice said nothing.

The human flushed, his blood (sweet, warm, _inviting_ blood) running into his cheeks. "My apologies," he said in a rush as though he'd been caught with his hand in the cookie jar, "I took the liberty of making myself comfortable in your home. My horse ran off and I have no where else to stay. Might I make use of your home until morning? I promise I'll be out of the door the moment the sun rises."

Alice finally realized what she was doing. Having a conversation…with a _human_.

"You must leave. Now." She forced herself not to inhale and her jaw clenched tightly in concentration.

The human's face fell. "But…please. I cannot go out there. The wolves would eat me alive."

_It's either them or me, _Alice thought.

"You don't understand. It is not safe for you here. I tell you this for your own good."

"_Please_," he pleaded desperately. "I won't be any bother, I promise."

"Sir, I—"

"Charlie," he interrupted his face breaking into a pleasant grin, "if I'm to impose on you, you should at least know my name. If I may ask, what is yours?"

Alice's ironic, sarcastic conscience laughed. _What the hell am I doing exchanging pleasantries with some man who doesn't even realize how much I long to suck him dry?_

"Alice." When she spoke her tone was clipped and strained. "Charlie, I understand your predicament, but you must leave now. I cannot even guarantee that you'll survive the night if you stay. And I—"

A growl filled the room and Alice's eyes engulfed her tiny face as they widened.

Jasper.

His nostrils flared and his mouth opened slightly. His eyes, wide and hungry, held an emotion Alice hadn't seen in him for fifty years.

Just a few years before their imprisonment, Jasper had converted to their way of life. Slowly, she had weaned him off of human blood. This was like taking a step back. Like taking thousands of steps back.

She flew across the room in the darkness restraining her husband. The candle fell to the floor, unheeded, and its flickering light illuminated the scene so that Charlie could see only outlines.

"Jasper," she whispered urgently, taking his face in her hands. "You can do this. You are in control. You know you don't want it, Jazz. You're stronger that this."

Jasper roared and ripped away from her grasp. Alice fell to the ground with a thud that seemed so unusual for such a small creature and Charlie's mouth dropped open in horror.

Alice scrambled to her feet and took a fighting stance, her fierce expression clashing with her soft words. "Jasper, please." The one called Jasper growled low and deep. His eyes were coal black and even in the candle-light, Charlie could see them perfectly.

Before he could blink, Alice had launched herself at Jasper and had pinned him against the wall. Her entire body was tensed and straining, but she turned her head to look at Charlie.

"Run."

Charlie clutched his knees to his chest watching a girl who couldn't be over five feet tall hold down a man who was even taller than he. Jasper's long blond hair fell into his eyes and he snapped his teeth at Charlie, who was too frightened to move.

"Help! Carlisle, Esme, Emmett, someone _help_!" Alice shouted as her hold on Jasper continued to slip.

Jasper's nails bit into her skin and Alice fought back the urge to let go.

Simultaneously, three other incredibly beautiful beings rushed into the room and took in the scene before them.

Esme's hand flew to her mouth but Emmett and Carlisle wasted no time in pressing Jasper into the wall. Alice could hear the wood groaning under the pressure that he was being held with. Jasper thrashed violently against his restraints and snarled again.

"Stop it, Jazz. I love you." Alice said firmly in an almost scolding tone. Jasper's expression held both wonder and confusion as Alice snatched his face between her hands and, standing on her toes, kissed him hard.

Charlie, unable to comprehend the events that had just occurred, lay down, convincing himself it was just a dream. There was no possible way he had survived the night, no chance he had wandered into this strange home with such extraordinary, dangerous, _beautiful _people. Charlie slipped out of consciousness, completely in denial.

He was too far gone to hear Esme's shocked whisper:

"Dear God, Alice, is that a _human_?"

------------------------

"What should we do with it?"

Alice sighed in annoyance. "Emmett, he's not a table, he's a human. And to answer your question, I have no idea."

Rosalie frowned and Alice could see the gears in her head shifting. "How did he even get in here? The doors can't open."

"Perhaps…the doors are sealed by magic, but how are we to know that it applies to both sides?"

"So all this time, anyone could have stumbled in, but we're stuck here for all eternity?" Rosalie pouted.

Alice scowled. "Rosalie, it's not like we _chose_ this, alright? It was an accident."

"Not possible." Rosalie threw up her hands and rolled her eyes. "You can't _still_ be defending him, Alice! What is wrong with you? It's his own damn fault and you saying otherwise isn't going to change that."

Alice closed her eyes, ashamed that Rosalie's furious thoughts coincided so well with her own. "I—I must go see how Jasper is.

Emmett stood and crossed his arms. "Rose, we have enough tension in this house without you screaming at everyone and adding to it."

Rosalie's forehead creased with determination. "I'm going to talk to Edward." She whirled away from her husband in what she thought to be a rather perfectly executed dramatic exit before his hand wrapped around her forearm.

"That's not a good idea, Rose."

She yanked her arm away. "Who are you to tell me who I can and cannot talk to? You don't _own _me, Emmett!"

"Please, let's just go to our room and relax. It's been a rough morning for everyone."

Rosalie's face hardened. "You're supposed to be on my side. You're _my _husband. I—I can't talk to you right now, Emmett."

Emmett could feel his heart droop. "Rosalie, I love you. I do. Please don't forget that. But we all need to think about some things and it'd be best if we left everyone else alone."

Rosalie laid a hand on his cheek, moved by his words. "I know. I love you, too. I can't help but love you, Emmett. Maybe…" She sighed. "Maybe I need some alone time too."

She left him alone in the living room with the human.

"God." Emmett sighed and placed his head in his hands. "What in the world are we going to do with _you_?" he asked the slumbering Charlie.

------------------------

The heat of the down blankets brought her out of sleep. There was a fire dancing merrily in the hearth and a cup of warm apple cider on the table next to her. The bed must have been a yard off the floor and when Bella moved to swing her legs over it, she could only see their shadows dangling in the air.

The curtains—big, red, and heavy—were drawn across the windows and Bella could not discern through the thick velvet what time of day it was.

A woman much too thin to eat as much as she should strode in and took in Bella's look of confusion. In her hands, she carried a tray laden with porridge and hotcakes, food Bella understood to be for one who is ill.

"All is well now." She laid the tray on the table and felt Bella's forehead. "Your head might hurt a bit when the medicine wears off, but I think you'll be fine."

"Who—" Bella began and noted the rawness of her throat.

The woman smiled kindly. "I'm Dr. Johnson's wife, Lucy." She held the glass to Bella's lips. "Now lay back. You have a visitor."

Bella shifted underneath the covers feeling very much a stranger in Dr. Johnson's home.

"Dear! You may come in now."

Ruby appeared in the doorway looking worried and clutching a bundle of wildflowers. "Are you alright, Bella? I came over this morning to thank you for your help and I found you on the ground." Ruby's eyes began to water. "Bella you were so pale and your lips were so _blue_!"

Bella was unsure what to do with Ruby's sudden burst of emotion. "I'm fine now, Ruby. It's okay."

Ruby nodded, sniffling. "Here," she held out the bouquet. "I picked them for you. To help you recover."

Uncertain of where Ruby had found the wildflowers, Bella accepted them with a smile. "Thank you, Ruby."

Ruby leaned forward to hug Bella and whispered, "Mike Newton's been hounding everyone in town about you."

Bella groaned and turned her head. "He's just one big…" She flailed her arms trying to come up with a decent insulting adjective. "_Nuisance_," she finished. "Why can't he go pick on someone else?"

Ruby shrugged. "There's a mystery. I don't think I've ever seen someone quite so determined about someone else."

Bella reached for a hotcake and bit into one. "He just wants what he can't have."

Ruby shrugged again. "Perhaps. Either way, I'm sure your father's worried about you."

Bella paused mid-chew. "What?"

"I went to see him this morning to tell him but I couldn't find him anywhere. He must be in town."

Bella forced a laugh. She didn't much like discussing Charlie's absence, especially now that he wasn't here to comfort her and make her giggle. "Did I forget to tell you, Ruby? You know Papa goes to the fair every year. He's been gone since yesterday."

Ruby frowned. "But…I saw his horse and cart outside."

Time seemed to stop and Bella could hear her heart pounding in her ears. "No."

"I did think it a bit odd at the time that here was Chief Swan's horse all saddled up to ride, but there was no Chief Swan in sight. But I was bit distracted. You know, finding you, and all."

"No," Bella repeated.

"Bella? Are you alright?" Ruby was a little alarmed at the shock and terror swirling in Bella's eyes at the moment.

"Ruby, Charlie left yesterday. But Phil is home and Papa isn't. So—Oh, my God."

She swung herself out of bed and skidded out of the door of Dr. Johnson's house.

"Wait! Bella, wait!" Ruby called after her, but Bella couldn't stop running.

She ran the half mile back to their farm and took in the sight of Phil placidly munching on a patch of grass. "Phil!" she called.

Phil reared up in fright, calming down only after he recognized her. What a night it had been for him, being first attacked and then unable to find his master. It was a wonder he had come home at all. But his instinct coupled with the fact that he'd lived with the Swans for almost 12 years had him finding their home once more.

Bella stroked his nose. "Phil, where's Charlie?"

Sadness entered the horse's eyes at the sound of his master's name. He shook his head like a human and lowered it.

"Phil, please, we have to find him!"

Bella made quick work of detaching Phil's saddle from the cart. The cloth that had covered Charlie's prized invention was torn and ragged and Bella could see through the gaping holes that there was no way it had survived.

She all but leapt onto Phil's back, disregarding the fact that she was still in her nightgown. "Oh, and I don't even have a map!" Nevertheless, she turned Phil in the direction she had seen her father depart in and nudged him to a gallop.

_Papa, I'm coming. Just hold on!_

------------------------

From all appearances, Edward was dreaming.

Being what he was made it so he couldn't do many things. He couldn't eat the foods that he'd once loved, he could barely remember his human life, he couldn't cry or listen to his heartbeat or sleep. But the thing he missed most of all was being able to dream.

Edward was in the armchair again with his head tilted back and his eyes closed. The only movement he made was the slight rise and fall of his chest as he breathed. It was a "dream" he'd had several times in the past fifty years. Funny, the only "dream" he could even have as a vampire, was a nightmare.

**It was daylight. Rosalie and Emmett would probably be splashing around in the lake with the sun making their skin gleam like diamonds. Alice would cajole Jasper into playing hide-and-seek with her in the sunshine and he'd pretend not to want to, although they both knew he loved being with her. Carlisle and Esme would be out in the courtyard letting the sun warm their skin and reading a classic together. It seemed the only person who didn't have this glorious day to spend with someone special was Edward.**

**He'd been only 17 when Carlisle had changed him. A plague had wiped out most of the town he'd lived in as well as both of his parents. Edward had only vague memories of them: his father was stern but proud of all of Edward's accomplishments and his mother was warm-hearted and a tender woman. **

**Several years later, Carlisle had found love with a woman named Esme. Esme had been so depressed after the loss of her baby but had found comfort in Carlisle. In a strange way, Edward had felt as though he had known her before. Esme was so warm and caring; he considered himself blessed with not one, but two mothers in his life. Still, as time wore on he began to see that although Esme and Carlisle never discluded him in anything, there was something they had together that they couldn't give him.**

**Then Carlisle found Rosalie and, wanting to ease Edward's loneliness, changed her to be his bride. But Edward and Rosalie were polar opposites and Edward couldn't love her in that way. They remained bitter and detached from one another until Rosalie found Emmett, a huge human who'd lost a battle with a grizzly and changed him. Edward was grateful about Rosalie and Emmett's happiness but his family had expanded to five people and he was still the odd one out.**

**Alice and Jasper had discovered the coven next. Neither drank human blood (which was a great relief to everyone) and had joined the Cullen family. They too had a significant other.**

**It seemed that when they were all together, laughing and arguing and talking like a true family, they were all a single part of the puzzle that made up the coven. It was on days like this, when everyone else had a special person to kiss and hold that Edward could see them all as interlocking puzzle pieces, and he the piece that didn't fit quite the way it should.**

**He turned away from the big white house and put his mind to the task of hunting. There'd been a human in the tiny town of Forks that had been mauled by what they thought to be a mountain lion.**

**Edward could take care of that.**

_**That's all I'm here for anyway. Population control.**_

**He sprinted through the forest at a superhuman speed. Then he saw it. It was crouched low and lapping up water from a stream. There was no doubt that it had fed recently from the blood smearing the fur around its mouth. Edward could tell just from the scent that it was human blood.**

**But was it really fair to attack it while it was so vulnerable?**

**When he'd been changed, he'd still retained his undying respect for the human race. With Carlisle, he'd learned that he didn't have to kill humans to survive and that had made him seem less monstrous. He couldn't control his anger with this _animal_ that had attacked the young boy after he'd wandered away from his mother.**

**Seeing red, he flew next to the big cat and sunk his teeth into its neck. He drank and drank until it stopped thrashing and became cold and lifeless in his grasp. **

**Feeling disgusted, he washed himself clean in the stream and turned back for home. **

**The woeful shriek of a woman stopped him.**

**He whirled around to see a beautiful woman sobbing over the corpse of the dead mountain lion. There was a glow around her that the shimmer of Edward's skin couldn't compete with and she looked gorgeous even as she looked up at him with red rimmed violet eyes and pale tearstained cheeks.**

"**Look what you've done!" she wailed. "My precious Samien!"**

**It frightened him more than anything else he'd ever seen. Her thoughts were a mystery to him, blocked off with whatever power she possessed. Edward took a step back and made to run very far away from the scene before him.**

"**No you don't! You'll pay. I swear it to you now; you'll pay for what you've done."**

**She threw her hands up and called, "Heavenly goddesses, give me strength!"**

**A blue light enveloped her and what sounded like hundreds of women whispering surrounded the forest. Even if he'd wanted to, Edward couldn't move.**

**She looked back at him. The violet irises seemed to have engulfed her entire eyeball. "I know of your kind, Edward Cullen. You destroy life to sustain your own. From this day forth, you will never again sully this forest or any one with the blood of a living creature. You and all those that reside with you are confined to your home for the rest of eternity with only chicken's blood to keep you alive. You will rue the day you ever killed my creatures."**

**Dear Lord, what had he gotten himself into? What had he gotten everyone _else _into?**

**The woman continued in a low voice. "So I wish it, so mote it be."**

**The world spun at his feet in a swirl of color and light. Edward could hear the women's hushed whispers again and he was tugged left and right by unknown forces.**

**Suddenly it came to a stop and he was faced with a different woman. She was more beautiful than the witch who'd cast a spell on him. Her irises were a pure red, but they weren't frightening. If anything, they seemed to hold worlds of pity.**

**Her eyebrows knitted together in sympathy. "It isn't your fault. Don't let Narmelie make you believe it."**

**Confused, Edward asked, "Narmelie?"**

**The woman sighed. "My sister. She was blessed by our mother with the gift of all living things. She watches over them like a hawk and gets her revenge on those who abuse the privilege of life."**

"**But creatures must eat to survive. She cannot kill them all. And what of the little boy who was killed in Forks? I was only trying to avenge his death," Edward replied.**

**The woman nodded. "This I know. Narmelie understands the circle of life. But she holds such little empathy for humans and those like them who end life so cavalierly. She feels that they should be punished as often as possible."**

**Edward thought back to the chubby face of the little boy that had been so mercilessly mutilated. "She cursed me."**

"**I know. My name is Rowena. And like I said, it isn't your fault. I know what you are, Edward Cullen. I understand what you feel, what you think, and I know that what Narmelie has done is unfair in every possible way. She has condemned you to an eternity indoors, to never hunt or play or be in the sunshine ever again. For that, I'm deeply sorry."**

**She looked it. He could see tears sparkling in her eyes. "Can you not do anything?"**

"**I cannot do much. I'm to follow in my mother's footsteps and queen of the goddesses and I have much to do before I'm ready. Narmelie often escapes her notice and has a way of charming the other goddesses so that they agree with her. You see, I seem to be one of the only ones on your side, Edward."**

**She paused in thought. "_I _can't break the spell, but I can give _you _a way to do so."**

"**My goddesses," she said softly, "have mercy on him. He has done no wrong. Give me the power to help him break the spell."**

**A tiny halo of green light glimmered around her; no where near as strong as Narmelie's. Rowena tittered nervously. "It seems I have less support from my goddesses than I thought."**

**For a time she was silent, and Edward thought she was reconsidering helping him. He wouldn't blame her if she chose not to.**

"**Edward, if you can get a human to stay with you and yours of its own free will before fifty years have passed, they spell with be broken. But it must be of their own choice, understand? I'm afraid that's the best I can do."**

**Edward crumpled to the floor. "What will my family think? I've done this to them."**

**Rowena touched his face gently. "It isn't your fault. Remember that. But you will have to explain it to them. Justice lies first in truth and then in action, Edward."**

**The whispers began again and he could see Rowena begin to disappear. "I've kept you too long. When you return you'll be back in your home. Your family will look to you to give them answers. Goodbye, Edward. I'll be watching over you."**

The "dream" shattered. He was back home, as dazed and disoriented as he'd been on that day. He should have told them, but how could he? It was obvious that no human could ever wish to stay with vampires so what was the point?

He snuck downstairs observing quickly that it was night again. Edward could see perfectly in the dark, but had to blink away and look again when he saw the figure lying on the settee.

It was…human?

Alice emerged from the hallway carrying a candle.

"When—" he started.

"Last night," she responded. Alice couldn't bear seeing that confused, worried, and utterly sad look on her brother's face so she looked at Charlie's instead. "We don't know what to do with him." The human looked so peaceful. Should they just send him on his way? How could they? Would the doors open if they even wanted to? So many questions had pestered her for so long that she forgot her anger at Edward.

A lightbulb flicked in Edward's head. This could be it. His one chance to save his family. "Lock him up, Alice. In the cellar."

_What? Is he serious? The man did nothing wrong! He's not a prisoner!_

"Don't question me, Alice!" Edward bellowed. He could see how very little Alice like him right then. Frankly, he didn't like himself very much at the moment, but it had to be done.

Alice saw the sadness and determination in him and in the moment saw a piece of the old Edward she knew. But it hid away as quickly as it had come. Gingerly, she lifted Charlie onto her back, careful not to wake him. He must have weighed near 200 pounds, but Alice barely even felt him there.

As she disappeared down the steps, Edward heard her thoughts:

_I miss the old Edward._


	6. Chapter 5

**Chapter Five**

Narmelie watched as a doe panted through her contractions. From her seat in the tree, she could see almost the entire forest. Her concerns were few and far between and always, _always, _involved maintaining sanctity and serenity of her world.

It had truly been a blessing that Mother had bestowed this gift upon her. Mother probably hadn't even known how much the blessing had meant to Narmelie; it had been given with the carelessness of one who has much to give and doesn't mind either way. Mother hadn't seen how Narmelie's eyes had shone with unshed tears and how her face had radiated with true happiness.

How difficult it was to stand in the shadow of her elder sister for so long. How horrid to watch her immortality fly past as the "sister" and _never_ the daughter. It was useless to envy the love Mother had for Rowena, the love she'd _always_ had. But Narmelie had done it anyway, for far too long.

Mother's gift was a tiny glimmer of hope. Perhaps her mother had loved her all along. She couldn't disappoint her by not taking care of the gift.

Her ponderous thoughts had caused her to miss the birth of the young buck.

Rowena was suddenly by her side on the branch. Out of habit or out of spite, Narmelie scooted away in the opposite direction, hell bent on keeping a large distance between them.

"Beautiful," Rowena commented on the scene both were watching but not really seeing.

Narmelie remained silent, but her gorgeous white skin was taught with the effort it kept to keep from replying and her jaw was tensed.

"Melly," Rowena continued, resorting to her sister's childhood name, "can we not patch up these differences between us?"

Narmelie made no indication that she'd even heard her. It was easiest this way. If she ignored her sister, who their mother thought superior in every way, she could ease the pangs of jealousy, at least for a little while.

"Narmelie, I have never asked you for anything, but I shall do so now. I ask you to release the curse on the Cullens."

She'd never had to ask, Narmelie thought scathingly. Narmelie had never had anything Rowena didn't but Rowena had been given everything she'd wanted and more.

"No," Narmelie responded. "I refuse."

Rowena's lips turned upward in a friendly smile. "Come now, Melly. We're sisters." She held out a hand for her younger sister to take.

"Your time is running out, Rowena. One last year and I win."

Rowena withdrew her pale hand and turned her face away. "One last year of _what_, may I ask?"

Narmelie's features contorted with anger. "You think I don't _know_? You think I am a simpleton, that you could do it without my notice? Well, you were _wrong_, Rowena. You've always underestimated me and you were finally _wrong._"

"Please." Rowena turned pleading. "What was I to do, Narmelie?"

"Nothing! It wasn't your place to do anything! You should have accepted that Mother delegated me in charge of this and you should have left well alone, instead of butting in." Narmelie smoothed the cloth of her lavender gown, trying to remain calm.

"Do you hate me this much, Narmelie?" Rowena asked sadly.

Narmelie chose not to speak, unsure herself of the answer. She turned once again to face the doe and her child. "Your time is slipping away, Row." She smiled then, and her face came alive. "I've won."

* * *

Horses were intelligent. There was no arguing with that. Bella knew as much having lived with Charlie for as long as she had. And each had their own separate personality and quirks that could be triggered by the slightest thing. 

Phil had been with the Swans for 12 years, since they'd bought him as a tiny foal from another farm. There was no doubting that Phil was smart, even though he was getting older. But not even a wise horse like Phil could figure out where they were going.

Bella cursed herself for not thinking to bring a lantern. What _had _she been thinking, anyway? Here she was in the forest with a horse that probably wouldn't remember where Charlie had gone, in her _nightgown_ no less!

She tugged at the reigns and urged Phil to a halt. The sun was just sinking behind the hills and before soon it would be too dark to continue.

_Give up, Bella. This is madness. You'll never find him. _The voice was warm and sweet. It implored gently, asking her to simply leave this task that was so obviously impossible.

Bella whirled Phil around in a circle.

"Who's there?" she called out tremulously. "Show yourself!"

The voice laughed. _Silly Bella. I am you. Your innermost thoughts and deepest desires. I only speak of what you truly want._

Phil tapped at the ground with his hoof impatiently. Bella rubbed his neck and looked about her again. "I don't believe you," she whispered. "There is nothing I could want more than to find my father and have him safe."

Bella tapped Phil's side with her heels, prodding him forward. They came to an intersection within half an hour. One path wound like a snake and the other was overcrowded with trees that almost seemed like spectators battling for the best seat to watch a sport. They swarmed the dirt path so that it held a space just large enough for a cart to squeeze through.

_Don't take the dark path, Bella. Remember Billy's story…_

Bella shuddered with the memory. She turned Phil towards the winding road, choosing discomfort over danger.

Just then, the largest snake Bella had ever seen slithered onto the path. Green and red, Bella couldn't recall ever having seen any illustrations of this specimen in the books from the library. However, her mind did not dally long on the rarity of the species. Phil reared in horror as the snake hissed, its vibrating tail making a sound that reminded Bella of a baby's rattle.

"Phil! Phil!" He backed away from the serpent, still rearing. Bella's hands wormed into Phil's mane as she desperately tried not to fall within reach of the python.

Phil bucked once and took off into a canter down the opposite trail.

Bella, still clinging to his neck, did not see the snake vanish the moment she turned her back.

* * *

"Jasper?" 

Jasper looked up to see his wife tremulously holding a candle. Alice's appearance could be misleading to those who didn't know her. Her eyes took up much of her pale face and her body had always naturally been small. She was dressed in a white nightgown that he recognized as the style women wore when their family had first realized the curse.

Jasper held out his arms and she dropped the candle to run into them gratefully. "That poor man," Alice whispered. "Edward has…he's..he's—"

"Shhh," Jasper murmured. "I know."

Alice lifted her face to look into his golden eyes. He'd fed recently, she noted. "Are you alright?"

Jasper gathered her closer and rested his cheek on top of her head. "It was just so…_hard_, Alice. And then there was the horror of knowing how you'd worked to help me and how I hurt you—"

"You didn't," Alice insisted. "You couldn't hurt me, Jazz, because you'd never want to. You stayed strong." She brushed her lips over his slowly, savoring the taste as if for the first time. "I love you, so very much."

"I love you, Mary Alice," he murmured tenderly.

Her voice became thick again with emotion. "I've never felt so lost, Jasper. I've never been so afraid. But I am. I'm afraid of what Edward has become.

"I think we all are, Alice," Jasper agreed. "I think we all are."

* * *

Was there a color darker than black? 

It was the stench that awoke Charlie, but it was the darkness that kept him conscious. He moved to sit up and found that he could not. The air was so stuffy here, (wherever it was that he now resided) and it sat on his chest like a rock, heavy and unmoving. As the oxygen wheezed in and out of his lungs, Charlie struggled with himself.

For forty years, he'd led a normal life—17 of them being with his daughter—never believing in any of the folly contained in storybooks. For forty years, he'd never once considered that there may be things that were unnatural so that they must keep themselves hidden away from the rest of the world. And yet he was sure that now, after forty years, fate wasn't giving him much of a choice.

* * *

Phil's steps became labored and his lungs heaved with effort. Bella slid off his back and led him to a stream to drink. 

The pink rays of sunset gleamed off the water as she stooped to wet her face. She could see her weary reflection, knowing that she wouldn't ever feel rested again until this entire instance was just a distant memory.

"Oh, Phil, are we ever going to find him?"

Phil whinnied in sadness. He nudged Bella with his nose and she stroked him fondly.

Satisfied that they'd rested enough, Bella swung back onto Phil's saddle. The light from the sun was almost non-existent now. Bella knew from the education that all children of the country-side received at one point or another that it was suicide to travel through the woods alone at night.

But what choice did she have? Who knew where Charlie could be by the time the sun rose again?

Against the nagging voice of reason, Bella murmured to Phil, "We're going on. I don't know what will happen, but I'm going to need you to trust me, Phil."

Phil could hear the worry in her voice. He whinnied again and set off at a canter.

Bella smoothed his mane in assurance and continued to speak to him as they rode.

Phil froze an hour later with his hoof still in the air. An overwhelming sense of fear took over and he began to shuffle with fright.

"What? What is it?"

With her blood pounding in her ears, Bella was oblivious to the snarls off in the distance. Phil, however, could and would not ever forget the fright that he'd felt when he'd been with Charlie.

He backed up slowly, tossing his head and making Bella grasp his mane to calm him.

The crash of branches in the bushes alerted Bella that something was so very, very wrong.

"Phil," she whispered urgently, "please trust me."

When the growls became louder and Phil stomped in terror, Bella crooned softly to him. "Wait, Phil, just wait. It will be alright."

Phil was torn between panic and his loyalty to Bella. His ears flattened on his head as he convinced himself to trust his master's daughter.

Bella kept her hand on his neck, remembering:

**She sat on Phil stroking his neck with love. It was the first time Charlie had permitted her to ride a fully grown horse and she was enjoying every second of it.**

**Bella called to Charlie, "Look! He likes me!"**

**Charlie grinned broadly at the unrestrained joy on her face. "Silly Bella, he's always liked you."**

"**But that was before, Papa," she responded, still gazing down at the horse with wonder, "now I get to ride him!"**

"**Well then," Charlie said, "are you going to ride or what?"**

**As Charlie had instructed, Bella had only ridden Phil at a trot. She was a different person in this saddle. It wasn't at all how she'd felt riding the pony at Angela's birthday party.**

**Well, Bella told herself, I am seven, almost a grown woman. She snickered at her personal joke and poked her heels into Phil to urge him faster. After all, if she was old enough to ride a big horse, she was old enough to do it properly.**

**As Phil picked up speed, Bella began to see the trees coming nearer and nearer. The moment she spotted a fallen log, she let out a piercing scream.**

**Charlie saw all too well what was going to happen. What had he been thinking letting Bella ride Phil when she was so young? He sprinted toward them both, already knowing he'd never be able to reach them in time.**

**Bella gripped Phil's neck tightly, squinching her eyes shut and waiting for the impact.**

**When Phil leapt through the air and landed neatly on the other side of the log, it was hard to say who was more surprised: Charlie, that Bella was alright; Bella, that Charlie wasn't mad at her for disobeying him; or Phil, that he'd managed to succeed in that at all.**

A circle of five wolves surrounded Bella and Phil, snarling and snapping their teeth. Although she hadn't seen wolves anywhere but in storybooks, she knew enough to know that the vivid, graphic depictions around town of wolves meant to warn children of the dangers of wandering into the woods were all too accurate to settle in her mind.

Panic raised bile in the back of her throat and she raised her eyes heavenward. She spurred Phil hard and he leapt over the grey wolf directly in front of them.

Bella had to blink a few times to make sure she wasn't hallucinating. The wolves looked shocked as well, but it soon gave way into fury and they were back to their ferocious growling.

Phil, with his aching knees and mind stirred in confusion, stood blankly until Bella spurred him again.

They galloped through the woods at a pace that made Bella's eyes water. The scenery blurred into green and brown blobs of color as Bella leaned forward on Phil for more speed.

_Faster. Faster, Phil!_

She could do no more than think these words, so as not to break Phil's concentration. It was only a matter of time before Phil's aged knees decided they could go no further and she was hoping against hope that when they did, she and Phil would be safely out of harm's way.

Bella spared a quick glance over her shoulder searching for the angry eyes of the wolf pack. Her surprise at seeing nothing pursuing them almost made her fly off her horse.

Phil stopped abruptly and whinnied loudly. He sniffed a few times at the ground before stomping the ground in recognition.

Bella all but jumped off the saddle in her haste to look at his face. Phil's old eyes gleamed with happiness at the familiar scent that was Charlie's.

Bella looked behind them both, noticing for the first time a gate. Closer inspection revealed the latch was broken and a few adrenaline-inspired shoves pushed it open.

Bella's hand flew to her mouth when she saw it: a monster of a house encased in winding, sinuous vines. In the moonlight, the miniscule white patches of house that could be seen through the wines almost…glowed.

Phil's nose pushed at her rump so he could get inside the security of the gates as well, and she tugged it open to admit him.

"Phil, are you sure?" she whispered.

Phil dipped his head once in an unmistakable nod. Although his years were great, so was the love and faith he had for his master; he could never forget the scent of the kind man.

Bella mumbled a quiet, "Stay here," before proceeding to the door.

She knocked twice with trepidation and was immediately disgusted with how weak she sounded. When no one answered, she knocked hard, three times in quick succession.

* * *

Esme's hands tore at the neat, uniform stitches on the cloth. The first few months of their captivity had been the hardest, back when everyone was still so bewildered about the events that had transpired and caused their imprisonment. Carlisle had sped through the books in his study, hardly ever coming out except to feed once every three weeks. 

She could still remember the pang she felt when he'd shooed her away in agitation, poring over an old text and holding a candle for light.

_Esme, please. I want to try and save us all, but I need time and quiet._

Esme had ripped open her sewing bag and began plucking up every stitch. When the cloth was once again clear, she's picked up the needle and started once more, taking pains to make the design looping and elegant to fill the void. Although she knew Carlisle couldn't be replaced by needlepoint, it helped her to forget. At least for a little while.

She didn't see him again for a month, until he came to her weary and defeated.

_I'm sorry_, he'd murmured tenderly, raining kisses all over her face. _I'm so very, very sorry._

Esme stared at the blank white cloth. It held so many possibilities that it made her mind spin.

Even from her room upstairs, Esme could smell the human. She could almost feel his desperation and resignation emanating from every pore. She'd gone downstairs so many times with the intent of throwing open the basement doors and setting him free. It disgusted her that she'd been unable to do it, unable to do what she knew in her heart was right because she was so fraught with want for their liberation.

_Patience._ She'd told her surrogate daughter the very thing. Good things come to those who wait. Why was it that now—after 49 years of captivity—she was having such a difficult time practicing what she preached?

* * *

The door swung open. 

Bella was almost disappointed at its lack of noise. No squeak, no creak, no angry growl of the hinges at all. In every story book she'd ever read, the ancient, frightening house had a squeaking door. It made her all the more scared when this door was completely silent.

_It's not too late to leave, Bella. You have no earthly idea who or what lives here._

The ajar door gave Bella a view to the dark void within. The light from the moon stopped just over the threshold, giving her no clue what she might find.

_Charlie wouldn't want you to risk your life for him. You know that, Bella._

Yes, she did. All too well. But there was no life without Charlie.

Indecision made her smooth her nightgown and hair, stalling. It annoyed her that she'd thought it would be so easy; that she'd just open the door and Charlie would come running, arms held wide for her embrace.

"I'm going in," she whispered, her voice almost inaudible to her own ears. The voice within her head, however, had other ideas.

_Stupid girl! Go home! You will not undo my plan with such ease. You will not—_

The voice stopped abruptly leaving Bella thoroughly shaken, but completely aware that someone—or rather some_thing_—had been watching her, following her this entire time.

Charlie's grinning face played in her head once more and she resolutely stepped forward into the darkness, ready to face fate.

* * *

Alice clutched her head in pain, moaning and tangling herself in the bedsheets. 

"Alice? Alice? Alice, what's wrong?" Jasper shook her shoulders, trying to get her eyes to focus on him, but to no avail.

Alice's beautiful topaz eyes rolled back as she continued to groan, drowning in the horrible sensations. A terrible scene played before her, one that although she knew she'd experience before, she could not recall.

"**Mary Alice?"**

**Alice looked up from her mirror, where she sat meticulously twisting her long dark hair into a plait. Her mother's voice sounded cheerful, and immediately Alice knew something was wrong.**

**For a year now, she'd been having visions. They'd stop her sometimes in the middle of her needlepoint or while she'd be speaking to someone. Frightened and bewildered, she'd turned to her parents, who had immediately sent her to bed for weeks on end and asked the Church to pray for her to recover from her illness. She saw very much of her parents during those first few months. They'd poke their heads in the door periodically, or sit with her, never speaking, but always observing. Sometimes, when they thought she wasn't looking, she'd glance over and see their disgusted, pained expressions and could almost read their thoughts.**

**After all, how could the elegant Brandon couple give birth to something so…weird? Alice hadn't seen her parents truly happy around her in months. Occasionally, she walk into a room where they'd be talking animatedly, smiling gaily. However, their faces lost their good humor as they turned displeased eyes to hers. **

'**What are you doing out of bed? How are you supposed to get better if you won't do as we tell you?'**

**She tiptoed down the staircase, arching her neck to see beyond the wall.**

**_Of course, _Alice grumbled in her mind, _I can't see a thing. _She cursed her small stature fluently in her mind. What was happening?**

"**She'll put up a fight," her father murmured in a low voice. "Perhaps it would be wiser to retrieve her while she sleeps."**

**Alice's heart stopped.**

"**Is this—" Her mother's voice faltered, catching on her tears. "Is this the only way?"**

**Another voice, male and devoid of emotion, spoke. "I'm afraid so, Mrs. Brandon."**

**Alice closed her eyes and breathed deeply. The visions had come and gone ever since her birthday, sparsely distributed in the six months that had passed. She had almost no control over them, often falling ill when a particularly long one came. Now, as she tried to do that which she knew she couldn't, her brown furrowed. **

_**Come on. Come on.**_

"**Call her again," the man commanded.**

**Alice's father cleared his throat. "Mary Alice? If you don't hurry we'll leave without you!"**

**Alice's head began to throb from exertion. _Please. Please. Whoever is out there, someone help me, please._**

"**Should we go fetch her?" her mother whispered, her voice sounding world-weary and ages older than her 37 years.**

**There was an anxious pause.**

"**No," the man spoke. "There's no need."**

**Alice almost died with relief. Whatever this person would be doing to her, it wouldn't be now. She'd have some time to prepare before the time came.**

"**_I _shall fetch her."**

**Alice scrambled up the steps, not bothering to be quiet in her haste. She threw open the door of her room and her eyes frantically scanned her surroundings, searching for a place to hide.**

**Shoes, well made and foreign, sounded on their way up the steps. **

**Alice threw herself into her closet, shutting the door completely and doing her best to shield herself with the gowns hanging on the rack.**

"**Ms. Brandon, your parents are ready to take you to the park." The man's voice was kinder now, as though the conversation downstairs had never happened.**

**_Liar! _Alice thought vehemently.**

"**Are you hiding, Ms. Brandon?" A smirk crept into his tone. "And here I thought you were a young lady. Young ladies do not hide like little girls." **

**She heard the shuffle of her curtains being pulled aside and his footsteps came so close to the closet door that she held her breath. The footsteps stopped as he stooped to look beneath her bed.**

"**Your parents are waiting, Ms. Brandon."**

**He moved back to check behind her door. "Stupid girl. You think I won't find you?"**

**Alice's small frame began to shake uncontrollably. Why was this happening to her? Why did she even get these visions in the first place? She hadn't asked for them; they'd just come one day, as unexpected as an illness. If she could take them back to wherever they'd come from, she would. Didn't anyone understand? She didn't want to be weird. She didn't want her parents to hate her so much they couldn't bear to look at her anymore.**

**The door creaked open and the man's dancing blue, almost white, eyes looked in upon hers with a sadistic smile. "I found you."**

**Alice fought him the entire way down the steps, grabbing handfuls of skin whenever she had access to them and pulling mercilessly. She scratched, bit, clawed like a wildcat.**

**When her nails raked across his left cheek, leaving four red, angry lines, he pulled her unbound hair so hard her eyes watered. "You will regret that," he spoke harshly.**

**Her mother and father were standing in the parlor holding each other. Two men, each clad in spotlessly white suits came forward to help her captor. They pinned her arms to her side, shouting instructions at one another even as she bucked and cried in their grasp.**

"**Mother! Mother, don't let them! Please mother, don't let them take me away! Please help me!" **

**Alice's mother turned her face into her husband's shoulder, sobbing miserably. Her father's usually handsome face was stoic and unfeeling.**

**The men, successfully getting a hold on her, began carrying her to the door.**

"**Father! Father please! I'm so sorry!" The tears were streaming down her face. "I didn't want them! I swear to you I never wanted them! Don't let me go!"**

**Her father opened his mouth twice before any sound came out. "Do not harm her. Please." He closed his eyes and one tear ran down his cheek. "God be with you, Mary Alice."**

**The realization that her parents were going to let these unfamiliar men haul her away finally dawned on Alice. She sagged in the arms of the white-clad men, only moaning quietly when she saw the words "Biloxi Mental Asylum" imprinted on the side of their automobile. **

**One man stepped inside the vehicle and the other handed her up to him. Alice looked up at the man white the pale blue eyes and whimpered, defeated. She put up no resistance when he slid the needle into her arm and sent her off into the land of sleep.**

Alice opened her eyes wide and was off the bed and against the wall faster than Jasper realized what was going on. She was breathing hard, her eyes darting around like a scared animal. Jasper could feel the hurt radiating off of her and he stayed immobile on the bed, not wanting to frighten her.

They stayed that way for almost three minutes before Alice's legs failed her and she slumped. Jasper caught her before she could hit the ground, murmuring endearments in her ear and stroking her short black hair.

"Thank you, Jasper," she whispered. Every word was harder.

"Do you want to tell me about it?"

"Carlisle told me once that when we become vampires, the human memories are the first to go," Alice began. "Still, he can remember his father, just as Emmett remembers Rosalie saving him, Esme remembers Carlisle biting her…"

Alice had to avert her eyes to continue. "I have no recollection of my past. As a…human." She swallowed and pressed on.

"I woke up 67 years ago with nothing but my visions to guide me." Alice trembled slightly in Jasper's arms. "I had to find a newspaper and look in the obituaries to even know my name. I don't know who changed me. I can't remember my family or anything about my life before the change."

Jasper's arms tightened around her. He's never heard this before. He wasn't used to seeing his persistently optimistic wife looking so defeated.

"Just now though, I…remembered. A little." Alice breathed unnecessarily. "They came to my house. They tried to trick me into believing my parents were going out for a ride with me. They took me away. My mother and father didn't try to stop them. They were so frightened of me. They just didn't understand why I couldn't be normal like them, why I didn't try harder to get rid of my visions." Her eyes were hollow and Jasper held her closer.

She began to sob, gasping into his chest as the pain set in. He felt so helpless, unable to use his power to comfort her.

Alice sniffed loudly, rubbing at her face. Suddenly she stood upright, her eyes closed in concentration.

"Oh my God, Jasper. There's another one." Her eyes were wide now and she seemed to have forgotten about her vision, at least for the present.

"Another what?" Jasper asked.

"Hold your breath," she ordered, fixing her gaze on the door. She pulled out of his arms and stepped carefully towards.

When she saw him take a step to follow, she growled, "Damn it, Jasper. _Stay here_. Trust me."

Alice slunk into the hall and closed the door, placing a chair against it under the doorknob for good measure.

For whatever reason, there was another human in the house, and she wasn't taking any chances.


	7. Chapter 6

**A/N: I'm making an exception and posting my author's note up here this chapter. Yes, yes, I know people were beginning to doubt this story was ever coming back, but it's here now. This chapter is what I've been slaving over for like a week, while the other edits took less than a day apiece. It's a crucial point in the story and I was having some trouble getting it to where I was satisfied. I actually tried to have it up yesterday, but my cpu was doing funky things and, well...it just wasn't working out. Thank you to all who have reviewed; it really motivated me to work faster...although fast_er_ isn't necesarily _fast_...**

**The rest of this story is dedicated to a little girl named Anna Mei who is in the hospital right now. For anyone who reads my notes, I know what it's like to be stuck in the hospital, not knowing when you'll be well enough to return home. She's one of the bravest people I've ever had the privilege to know and I know she's been waiting for an update. Stay strong, Anna Mei, I'm rooting for you.**

* * *

**Chapter Six**

"Hello?"

Bella shuffled into the darkness stiffly, arms held in front of her in lieu of eyesight. The unknown, unending black made several cold beads of sweat roll down her back in fear. She glanced over her shoulder nervously, half expecting something to jump out of the shadows at any time.

Billions of questions ran through her head as she watched Phil's shadow, silhouetted by the moonlight, stomp at the grass impatiently.

Was Charlie alright? Had something horrible happened to him? Was he sick somewhere, dying?

Was this just a dead end? Why hadn't she thought to alert the rest of the Forks Police Department (small as it may be)? Why hadn't she asked for Ruby's help?

"Leave."

The girl had appeared before Bella even blinked. Her dark short hair was cut almost like a boy's and she seemed to be exerting a lot of strength in clutching the candle she carried. Almost as if she was…restraining herself.

"I—I apologize for disturbing you, Miss," Bella stammered, "But my name is Is-Bella Swan and my f-father, he lost his horse and I…"

The girl continued to stare at her, unblinking.

Alice's mind was working quickly, trying to fend off the instinct in her to snap a human neck and just let go. She had all but stopped breathing, hoping her internal questions would be enough. This girl was the very girl she had seen in her visions! But what did it all mean?

"…Well," Bella murmured quietly, greatly disturbed and frightened by a girl who only reached her shoulders. "I-Is it possible that you may have seen him? Outside perhaps?"

Alice wanted to cry at the irony of it all. What could her family have done to deserve the cruel hand of fate being dealt to them?

"No. I did not see him outside," she responded carefully. It wasn't, after all, a lie.

Bella's shoulders sagged and her whole persona seemed to wilt. "I see."

Alice's dead heart wept for this girl and her father, who had simply been in the wrong place at the wrong time. But for whatever reason, Edward apparently needed the man. She could only hope it would somehow lead to their salvation and no one else would be hurt.

Bella collapsed onto a nearby footstool and became another silhouette as Alice froze in a vision.

**Charlie wheezed and coughed into his hand. His chest heaved up and down in the efforts of his breathing. **

"**I-I'm so—" He stopped to catch the breath that was being slowly stolen in the musky cellar. **

"**I'm so sorry, Bella," he sobbed.**

**Then his tiny speech stopped. As did his breathing.**

He would die. It was what humans did, something that happened everyday. Something that sure as hell shouldn't have bothered her, Alice thought.

She never once drank from humans—a 'vegetarian', her family's private joke. Why? Because she respected the human race far too much to take a life every time she felt a bit thirsty.

Alice's conscience nagged at her. Wasn't allowing this man to die in her house for a seemingly useless cause the same as murder?

Bella stood, swaying unsteadily. "Thank you," she said in a voice that sounded dead. "I shall take my leave and cease disturbing you."

"Wait."

Bella swiveled blank eyes to meet Alice's.

"I-I will take you to see your father."

------------------------

She was magnificent.

On a raised dais apart from the rest of the crowd, she sat with her back arched straight enough to appear uncomfortable. Her deep gold robes seemed to swim in the candlelight and clung to her willowy shape, only adding to the air of dignity she had possessed since birth.

She was wonderful, powerful, a goddess.

She was queen.

Across the room, Narmelie shot her sister a look of contempt. Even apart from the crowd of goddesses Rowena managed to look splendid, capable of enjoying her own company. The thought, one that so frequently plagued Narmelie's mind came again:

_Why can't I be like her?_

Rowena sipped at her glass of mountain water and snuck a glance at Narmelie. Laughing and smiling gaily, her sister was surrounded by her friends, each a stunning beauty in their own way, each unaware of the hatred that burned behind Narmelie's charming grin.

Though she smiled serenely and chatted amiably, Rowena's mind was elsewhere.

How was she going to help the Cullens? The child in her wanted to run to her mother and plead their case. Magna, Queen of the Goddesses had little to no cares about the world below and would most likely chastise her for not being the same.

'A future queen does not concern herself with the trivial mishaps of a race so inferior to her own,' she would say. 'I expect you to behave like the future queen you are.'

Magna had always managed to make Rowena feel four years old, though she was well over two thousand.

Narmelie, Rowena thought, would be of no help. In fact, she may have already worsened the Cullens' conditions by even requesting Narmelie's aid.

"Deep thoughts, my lady?"

Rowena smiled fondly at the aging goddess who had been her nanny. "Maylee, how do you fare this evening?"

Maylee's answer was the same it had always been. "Better than most, worse than some. It appears a friend of mine made me a dress for the occasion." She smiled widely, her face settling comfortably into the laugh lines it had acquired in her lifetime.

Rowena blushed daintily. This was the woman who had truly been her mother since she'd been young enough to be swaddled in linens. "It was a gift, Maylee. You look stunning."

Maylee spun in a circle, displaying off the forest green gown that showed off her hourglass figure. "That, child, I do. It's too bad Maggie didn't invite any gods, isn't it?"

Rowena nearly choked on her mountain water. Maylee was and remained the only goddess who could refer to Magna as "Maggie" and emerge unscathed.

"Where is your sister?" Maylee asked claiming Rowena's arm. She patted her vivid red hair, preening, though it continued to fall out of its clip.

"Strain your eyes a bit, Maylee. She's just there, surrounded by her friends." Unlike Narmelie, Rowena's voice held no malice.

"Pooh," Maylee said, "I won't be fighting for my lamb's attention with a bunch of silly fillies. When she wants to say hello, she'll come to me. Now," she continued watching Rowena's face carefully for any signs of a lie, "tell me about this tiff you and Narmelie are having."

Rowena's hand fidgeted with the side of her gown. "Tiff?" she answered with a nervous chuckle. "I'm afraid you'll have to be more specific than that, Maylee. We have 'tiffs' six times a day."

Maylee, five-foot-two to Rowena's stately five-foot-eight, could still manage to make Rowena feel like a child. "You know of which I speak."

"Please, Maylee. Not here."

Maylee took the mountain water from Rowena's hand. "Alright, Row-boat," she said referring to Rowena's play-pen nickname. "Not now, not here, but soon."

Magna raised her arms as she flowed upwards into a standing position. Her gleaming golden robes were a beacon of light amongst the various shades of pinks, violets, blues, and greens. Magna's long, gossamer hair had been curled and cascaded down her shoulders in a shimmering waterfall. Immediately, all conversation—pleasant and otherwise—ceased.

"Thank you," Magna began in the voice that was so dainty in its sound, but so regal and firm in tone, "my friends for joining me tonight on what I think to be a night of great magnitude."

"My daughters, Princesses Rowena Rose and Narmelie Anne, have brought me great delight in my years." Though she spoke of both daughters, her eyes were charmed on Rowena only, a detail neither sister missed.

"I could not have requested any better gifts," Magna continued, allowing gentle tears to spring to her eyes. "I have every one of you to thank for aiding me in my raising of them. Without you, they would not have the strength to perform the tasks that await them."

Magna dabbed at her eyes with a handkerchief, proffered by the young girl behind her. "It is with great pleasure that I announce this tonight, to you, my closest friends." The five thousand goddesses seemed to glow with the knowledge that they were in Magna's inner circle.

"By the end of the year, I will no longer be your queen."

Rowena took in every goddess's gasp of surprise. Maylee sipped complacently at the mountain water, apparently knowing this long ago. Though she was wary of what she might see, Rowena hazarded a glance at her sister.

Narmelie's skin had taken on a slightly green tinge and she clutched the berry juice in her hand as though hoping to gain some support from it.

"By the end of the year, you will have a new queen: My first-born daughter, Princess Rowena Rose."

The previously silent crowd erupted into cheers, everyone quickly downing the rest of their drinks and rushing over to congratulate Rowena.

She accepted the cheek-pinches, handshakes, and hugs with a steady smile. But her eyes were trained on Narmelie who dropped her wine glass and fled from the room, tears streaming down her cheeks.

------------------------

"I am Alice."

The pale hand Alice held out looked far less than inviting, but Bella felt compelled to grasp it.

"Quietly," Alice admonished when Bella's feet squeaked too loudly on the floorboards for her liking.

Bella flushed in both embarrassment and excitement. "I apologize. I don't wish to awaken your family."

Alice nearly laughed aloud, but nodded and held the candle higher for more light (not that she needed it).

Bella took in the ancient look of the hallways. Cobwebs and dust masked mirrors and the pictures had moth holes eaten through the canvasses. Her hand turned clammy in the hand of this girl and she couldn't help but compare her touch to the feel of the ice in the barn's freezer.

Alice navigated her down dank staircases, occasionally stopping to listen for things Bella couldn't hear. Sometimes she'd speak out commands like, "Watch that stair" or "Don't touch the banister" and fast slews of words Bella could barely make out like, "How can humans be so _loud_?"

The high vaulted ceiling of this mansion made Bella feel so small and next to Alice, she felt weaker than a newborn. Somehow, Alice was attempting to save her from something she knew not about. She, Bella, had no weapons against a monster she could see or hear and had to put her trust in the petite Alice.

"Is he well?" Bella asked to distract herself from the cold fear she felt gnawing at her heart.

Alice turned black eyes to stare at her. "As well as can be expected," she responded elusively.

_Only 67 years since I've been human,_ Alice mused. She found herself drawing comparisons with her girl whose heated palm was clasped against her own freezing one.

Bella Swan. Probably a shortened form of Isabella or Isabelle. Somewhat tall, but thin. Chestnut hair that seemed to have drawn all of the color out of her face, except the eyes. A vivid, warm shade of brown. Heart thudding a mile a minute. Pale, pale skin that indicated a mother who disliked the sun. Medium sized nose, tilted slightly upwards, long limbs and a small waist.

This girl was a picture of humanity and she'd come to find herself inside a nightmare no human could ever dream up.

_I suppose, _Alice thought, _it's my duty to make sure she gets out of this alive and hopefully with the other human, her father, in tow._

"Listen to me," Alice demanded gripping Bella's shoulders tightly and struggling to control herself when the human's eyes went wide and her pulse scrambled even faster. "Your father may not be as healthy as you'd like to think. I shouldn't be doing this, but for whatever reason I am." She paused to listen for any movement on the upper floors.

"You are to do what I say, when I say it, understand?"

Bella nodded, not understanding at all.

"I cannot stress how difficult this will be. Trust me. I will help in any way I can but you must trust me."

They approached a door taller than both of them and twice as wide.

"No sounds," Alice said. "When you see him, say nothing. Or I cannot guarantee you'll leave safely."

_Ring around the rosies…_Alice intoned silently, choosing the first song that came to mind, ever wary of Edward taking notice of her plans.

She placed both hands on the door handle and tugged, feeling the lock whine under the force she was using. When the entire handle came free of the wood, Alice felt the human flinch, but sighed internally that she had made no noise.

_A pocket full of posies…_

Bella's breathing had all but stopped though her heart continued to pound. What kind of horror story had she walked into? How could such a small girl completely destroy a door without breaking into a sweat?

Thunder crashed, the sound reverberating through the entire house, but Bella heard nothing above the pounding of the blood in her ears.

"Hurry," Alice whispered, beckoning her into the musky cellar.

The candle illuminated only brief glimpses of her surroundings and Alice was careful not to reveal the row of rose-soldiers lined up against the west wall.

Bella's mouth opened in horror as she took in the sight of her father. His hands and feet had been tied together, though they didn't seem to be the force keeping him there. His eyes were bleary and his hair limp. Charlie's chest rose and feel in a painful motion and Bella felt tears spring to her eyes.

Bella crouched beside him, shedding silent tears. Charlie focused one eye on her and tried to speak.

"Bells?"

Bella smiled through her tears and nodded. She wrapped her arms around him, seeming to have forgotten about Alice's presence.

Another bout of thunder reminded Alice of the task at hand. "There isn't time," Alice whispered. She stooped to Charlie's level and fought with the knots binding him.

_Ring around the rosies…_

"Thank you," Bella gasped.

Alice nodded impatiently, finally settling on tear the rope in two. _A pocket full of posies…_

Charlie groaned aloud as his arms were freed. (Alice thanked the gods it was masked by more thunder). "I thought I'd never see you again, Bella," he rasped.

Alice set to work on the ropes around his ankles as father and daughter embraced. She fought not to see the angry red marked that coated Charlie's wrists or the tears staining Bella's cheeks.

_Ashes, ashes… _she began again.

"There. Go!" she said the moment Charlie was free.

"But where—" Bella asked.

"No one," a voice growled from the shadows, "is going anywhere."

_We all fall down._

------------------------

She should have been expecting it. She should have known. She should have been prepared.

Narmelie stooped to scrub at her face with the stream water.

Her reflection stared back angrily at her, silently admonishing her for not being better, smarter, kinder; in short, for not being Rowena.

It was only natural that the first-born would replace her mother on the throne. It was the way queens had always been selected in their realm and it would probably never change. Why had she expected any different?

But Rowena had _everything_! She had the love of their mother, their nanny, and everything that had ever mattered.

She thought of the days when she and Rowena hadn't been so different, when they'd been small enough to not let a two year age difference detract from their sisterhood.

Even then, though, Rowena had clearly been the castle favorite.

**Mother had told them it was unladylike to play catch inside the house, that they should invite some of the other girls over for tea, or something more **_**boring**_

**But Row and Melly were dying to play with the new ball they'd found in the garden.**

**Their shrieking laughter echoed throughout the castles and servants rolled their eyes in amusement as the princesses careened down the halls, catching and throwing to their hearts' delight.**

"**Come on, Row! **_**All**_** the way over here!" Melly cried.**

**Rowena's tongue stuck out as she first concentrated and then hurled the bright red ball toward Melly, neither concerned with the antique French God vase between them.**

**Melly dove for the ball, her legs scrambling to catch it.**

**She'd never forget the sound of broken porcelain the signaled the end of life as she knew it. Or the quiet of the lonely bedchamber she'd been reassigned to when their mother declared she was a bad influence of Rowena.**

**She'd left the comfort of her sister's loving touch and her Mother's reluctant attention for her sister to begin her training to be queen.**

**It had never occurred to her before that Rowena was more special, more loved than she was. **

**But as her mother's frowning face closed the heavy door to her bedchamber, she realized it had been true from Day One.**

**That night, Maylee visited her room. They both knew she had come from Rowena's bedchamber first, as was her duty.**

"**I hate her," Melly said, biting back tears. Maylee said nothing, but pulled the bedspread under her chin.**

"**She loves you, my lamb," she said at the door as she extinguished the candle.**

**Melly knew she was referring to Rowena, but what she wouldn't have given for it to have been her mother.**

_They'll both wish they never treated me that way._

She raised her arms, new tears forming in her eyes when she noticed how small the halo of light was.

"I ask of you, my goddesses to help me. I cannot undo Rowena's work, but I can make it difficult for her to succeed."

The whispers continued, waiting for her addition to the spell.

"Love is sacrifice; I know that well. Sacrifice of the heart, mind, body, and soul. Only true love and sacrifice from a human shall free the vampires from their self-made entrapment. The human must show their sacrifice for one of the vampires before Rowena is made…queen," she said choking on the word. "Or the human, as well as the vampires, will be doomed to remain inside that house for all eternity. So I wish it, so mote it be."

Her energy began to fail her as the blue light flared once, brilliantly, and then died.

"You lose, Rowena," she said savagely. "And I win."

------------------------

He didn't understand it. How could a human smell so sweet? She sat holding the other human's head to her shoulder, her eyes wide, swirling with a mixture of confusion and fear. He could almost see her pulse beating against the thin layer of pale flesh on her neck. Her _throat_. Under that, he was sure, would be the most delectable blood…

"Edward," Alice breathed, sure of where his thoughts had strayed.

"Stand aside," he said between clenched teeth. "This does not concern you."

"And if I refuse?" she asked, squeezing her nails into her palm hard enough to draw blood, had she possessed any. The fire had returned to her eyes and she felt as though she could fight Edward, the man who had been her older brother, without any remorse.

"You don't know what you're doing, Alice," Edward said. "They cannot leave. Our sanity depends on it." _That smell…_He opted to stop breathing before he killed the thing that would set them free.

Bella stroked Charlie's head as his eyes shut. He needed a doctor, or he wouldn't survive another week. They _had _to leave.

"Why?" Alice begged. "I need to know _why_, Edward. Please."

"Don't you see that I can't?" he raged. He took several steps forward, dramatically increasing Bella's heart rate.

_He's beautiful_, she thought. _And I've never been more frightened in my life._

"They have to stay. Trust me on this, if with nothing else." Edward turned away from them. "They must stay."

"Please," Bella said, speaking to him for the first time. "He's sick. Look at him." When he didn't, she said more forcefully, "Look at him!"

Edward, finding it difficult to speak without air, bit out, "You will not speak to me in that manner."

"He is ill! And it is because of you!" Bella said firmly. "I shall speak to you however I please."

"Keep her quiet, Alice," Edward growled.

"Why? Does the truth hurt that badly, Edward?" Alice said, quietly.

"Bella, what's happening?" Charlie asked drowsily.

_He's dying, Edward, _Alice thought.

"I know, Alice. God, I know!" Edward spun back around and Bella was again overwhelmed with his beauty.

"…_if you can get a human to stay with you and yours of its own free will before fifty years have passed, they spell with be broken."_

He glanced at the old man, hearing the start and stop of his thready pulse. He had not yet looked at the girl who had come to save him.

That _heavenly_ sscent was emanating from her.

"Do—" Her voice faltered and she hid her face behind a curtain of that sweet smelling hair. Edward almost groaned aloud. "Do you need us both?"

Alice turned to face her, her eyes round with shock. "Don't."

"Charlie's sick," she said. The tear rolled down her cheeks which were pinkened from fear. "But I—"

Charlie was jolted into cognizance by her speech. "Bella, no."

"I am well enough to stay," she finished.

Edward stared at her, the bowed brown head, trembling with terror. "What?"

She lifted her eyes to his. "Take me instead."

Charlie moaned as he tried to stand. "Bella, I've lived my life! You cannot—"

Edward snatched Charlie's arm and squeezed, the monster in him begging to hear her voice again, most certainly not hearing Charlie's whine of pain. Charlie fell silent.

"You would replace him?"

Bella nodded, knowing well she wouldn't survive very long, but Charlie would.

"…_if you can get a human to stay with you and yours of its own free will before fifty years have passed, they spell with be broken."_

Edward glanced at the wall, seeing clearly the 49 roses. He didn't relinquish his hold on Charlie's arm as he said, "Take him outside, Alice."

"Edward, I won't—"

"NOW!" he shouted, his eyes black with fury.

She snarled at him, a sound so fierce that Bella's tiny frame seemed to shrink into the stone. "This is the last time you will treat me as your inferior, Edward." Before Bella could blink, she had scooped Charlie up onto her back.

Bella scrambled up, reaching out a hand. She could see bruises forming on Charlie's arm where Edward had touched him. "Wait! I didn't—"

"Go, Alice," Edward said, turning his eyes back to the roses.

He felt, rather than saw Alice's sneer before she vaulted quickly up the stairs and out of the cellar.

Then he was alone with the human.


	8. Chapter 7

**_For Anna Mei, my 'Honorable Beauty'_**

**Chapter Seven**

"Put me _down_!" Charlie cried.

At another time, Alice would have thought he sounded very much like a young child throwing a tantrum. He squirmed futilely on her back and she steeled herself to ignore his pleadings. Her arms became iron bands as she solidly marched through the house.

She could see their misshapen shadow on the floor as the first pinks of an almost-sunrise illuminated the windows. Slits of light, cut off only by the heavy shutters and curtains installed to drown out the outside world, played on her cheeks and she was suddenly all too aware of Charlie seeing.

How did Edward expect them to just let him leave? He'd seen too much and was far too worried about the other human to return home and revert back to his daily life. No, he'd bring more humans, humans that would attack them in their own home and—

"That's my daughter! Put me down, she needs me!" Charlie begged. He was hysterical enough not to notice that Alice's grip was slowly severing circulation in his legs.

Carlisle appeared at the top of the steps that led to the second level. "Alice?"

He had thought it his imagination when he'd smelled the human. So it went without saying that _two_ humans stumbling upon their house in the span of forty-eight hours was unrealistic. He'd doubted his enhanced senses when he'd scented the girl, when he'd heard the muffled sounds of an argument in the cellar.

Both Alice and Charlie froze. Carlisle took in the almost comical image of a grown man piggy-backing on such a small girl. Had she been human, Alice's small stature in comparison to Charlie's girth would have long ago broken her vertebrae. "What in heaven's name are you doing?"

"Ask Edward," Alice ground out. "And perhaps while you speak with him you can inform him that _he_ is not the leader of this family."

Esme appeared next to Carlisle. "_Edward_ asked you to do this?" she questioned in a small voice. Edward was her baby, though he was a few decades older than she and everyone else, save Carlisle. He was the one she was always aching to give guidance to; though he very rarely requested help in anything, as though he were afraid showing one weakness would crumble the wall he'd built around himself. "He wouldn't."

The three vampires had seemingly forgotten Charlie's presence. Hoping to escape back to Bella, he attempted to move his arms which had been trapped between his chest and Alice's back.

"He _did_," Alice snapped, "and I'm thoroughly tired of being ordered around like a servant to do His Majesty's bidding."

Esme's lip trembled as she restrained her sobbing. Alice's face softened. "Esme—Mom, I'm sorry. I'm just so…so—"

Carlisle looked heavenward, as though expecting a solution to appear from above. "Did he—did Edward offer _any_ explanation?"

"Why should he?" Rosalie said emerging from her bedroom. (Charlie almost passed out when she stepped into the hall. Who could these terrifying, enigmatic, _beautiful_ people be?). "Edward doesn't _need_ explanations does he?"

"Rose…" Emmett said, warningly.

"Of course, not," Rosalie said as though she hadn't heard him, "because he's _Edward._ Edward the Perfect, Edward the Noble, Edward the 'I don't give a damn if I hurt everyone who loves me because my _intentions_ are good'! When are you all going to realize that it's _all his fault?!_"

"Stop it!" Esme said, turning on Rosalie in a distinguished non-Esme fashion. "How is blaming anyone going to solve anything? Does saying that Edward is at fault undo the magic that binds us here? Does it rewind time, Rosalie? All it's doing is breaking this family further apart at the one time when we need each other most."

Everyone stared at the scene with wide eyes, but none so much as the person on the other end of Esme's wrath. Rosalie looked lost for words. "I—he—"

"If you have nothing helpful to add, Rosalie Lillian Hale, kindly keep quiet so we can think." Esme closed her mouth suddenly and looked around quickly as if wondering who had said all that. She cast her eyes down in embarrassment and murmured, "It needed to be said."

Rosalie's eyes shone with unshed tears that were incapable of spilling over onto her white cheeks. She ignored Emmett's hand when it reached to stroke her blonde curls, ducking swiftly under his arm. She shook her head briefly and disappeared into her room.

Alice cleared her throat awkwardly. "Emmett, should you…"

Emmett gazed at the heavy oak door for several seconds. "Is Jasper upstairs?" he asked not taking his eyes off of it. Alice nodded. Emmett's sigh was uncharacteristically world-weary as he took in the aged scent of Charlie's blood. "I'd better go make sure it stays that way."

Alice's loosened her arms when the weight of Charlie's warm body dawned on her. The argument had apparently stunned him into motionlessness and she could hear the slight wheeze of his lungs with every shallow breath.

Esme glanced ashamedly at Rosalie's door. When she spoke, it was in a hushed whisper that made Carlisle think she wasn't aware she was speaking out loud. "I was too harsh…I could have—I should go and…" Carlisle took her hand in his and squeezed reassuringly.

"Carlisle," Alice said, hesitating in her words after Esme's outburst. "He's ill. Could you—"

"I'll fetch my kit," he said simply and was back before Charlie's mind had registered he had even left.

"Lay him on the settee, Alice. Gently." Carlisle's large black leather bag was already open and he was rummaging through it. He looked up briefly and saw Esme wringing her hands and feeling useless. She was no doubt upset about her argument with Rosalie, but he could do nothing but make her feel needed at the moment. "Esme, darling, a cool cloth please."

Esme scurried off, wondering, _Do the pipes still work?_

Carlisle had no idea how much the human had seen or how much he had believed. In any case, it wouldn't hurt to be careful about revealing their abilities to him. He adjusted his tarnishing stethoscope in his ears, though he most certainly didn't need it to hear the uneven _thump, thump, thump _of the man's heart.

Charlie protested weakly to being handled by Alice, but was in no condition to resist. His head slumped to the side as Carlisle gently prodded his torso, searching for injuries.

Esme returned with a wet towel moments later, folded it and laid it over Charlie's eyes. Things would be easier for him if he didn't have to see it.

The man's ribs had been broken, Carlisle thought, but had healed, albeit a bit crookedly. As his hands tentatively poked the afflicted area, Carlisle was astounded to note that Charlie made no movement, indicated no pain.

His arms, though, were a mess. _Edward must have tied him, _Carlisle thought, _much too tightly for a human. _At the wrists, the flesh was torn and a vibrant red. The tissue was most definitely infected and swollen, caked with blood—dried and fresh.

Carlisle swore under his breath as he noticed that beneath the tissue were robe fibers that had become embedded in his skin. Not only would the man require stitches, but Carlisle would have to use a scalpel to get to the fibers to avoid further infection. He knew for a fact, without looking, that he'd finished him supply of anesthesia long ago.

"Hold your breath," he said quietly to Alice, proud of her control thus far. "And hold him down for this; I'll have to tear a bit to get inside."

Charlie's heart rate thumped harder as he felt the razor-sharp tip of Carlisle's scalpel. "Easy," Carlisle said, using his voice to send Charlie into a relative stupor. "I'm going to help you. It's okay. Deep breaths."

Charlie had no choice but to obey, not when he was so hypnotized by Carlisle's words. Carlisle continued to talk to him as his knife found the rope bits and removed them. Blood flowed freely now and Carlisle hoped fervently that Emmett had a good hold of Jasper.

Alice turned her face away and exerted more force on Charlie's shoulders as Carlisle removed the stopper from the antiseptic bottle. She'd helped Edward in his studying for medical school enough to know that it would be too painful for Charlie to endure without moving, even under the pseudo-hypnosis of Carlisle's eyes.

The moment the beige liquid touched his wrists, Charlie screamed and thrashed against Alice's hold.

"Stop! Please, Mother of Mercy, stop! God!"

Carlisle diligently administered the antiseptic to both wrists, wishing he could simply avert his eyes as Alice and Esme had done. "The needle please, Esme," he said once it was done. Charlie gasped at air and shivered violently under Alice's strong hands. "Sweet Jesus," he moaned, sobbing into the towel.

Carlisle forced himself to keep his voice and hand steady as he sealed Charlie's wounds. "Done," he said, knowing there was blatant relief in his tone.

"Charlie, it is time to go home," Carlisle soothed, wrapping gauze around the man's wrists. "Your horse is outside. He will take you home."

Charlie nodded, unable to do anything more as Carlisle removed the towel from his face. He was too disoriented to notice Phil rear in apprehension as Esme's hand closed on his bridle, too dazed too see the ease with which she placed him on the horse's back and wrapped his arms around his neck.

Phil staggered a bit at Charlie's dead weight, but when Esme slapped his hauches, took off at a mighty gallop far away from the people with pale skin and supernatural strength.

* * *

She hadn't moved. Not an inch. 

Edward couldn't look at her. He couldn't breathe, couldn't think. She was so…_there_. He could feel every trembling breath she took, every blink of her eyes—now downcast and frightened when they'd been so alive mere minutes ago.

"Say something," he begged, breaking the silence. The weight of the quiet in addition to her intoxicating aroma was too much for him to bear.

She shifted her head, her silken hair swinging gently. It took Edward a moment to realize she was saying no. Who was this creature who could give up her life for another's so easily? How could she dare to openly defy him when she had no clue as to what fate awaited her here?

"Did he—" Bella faltered, breathing deeply to calm her shaky voice. "Did he steal something"

He had been expecting a plea, some sort of cry to be freed. He most certainly hadn't expected that. Edward blinked, gripping the windowsill as both thirst and curiosity fought to overcome him. "What?"

She was so quiet for so long, Edward thought he had imagined hearing her speak.

Then: "Did he take something from you? My father, did he steal something from you?"

"No."

Bella's hands tightened minutely on the folds of her dress. Edward didn't notice. "Did he try to harm you?"

Edward's mouth twitched at that. _As if it was even remotely possible._ "No."

"Did he threaten your…" She hesitated, not knowing what to call these beautiful people that inhabited the house. "Family?" she finished.

"No."

Bella's head snapped up in a movement that had Edward sinking his fingers in the wood of the windowsill and leaning as far away from her as possible.

"What, then?" Bella fumed, her eyes on fire once more. "If he didn't steal or threaten or try to hurt you, _why was he here_?" She ended her furious question in a harsh whisper.

Neither Bella nor Edward expected what she did next.

She leapt up in a clumsy move that had her sprawling closer to him. Bella didn't seem to mind, however, as her mission seemed to be to get to Edward. She hit the ground with a muffled thud and seized a fair-sized stone off the ground. Immediately, she hurled it and others at him, though her aim was far from perfect.

"You're a monster!" Bella shouted, panting with effort. Edward threw his arms up in a gesture that was more out of instinct than actual pain.

Bella was too worked up to notice that the rocks only bounced off of Edward's body and fell to the floor with small thuds.

The rocks weren't helping, she decided. Bella launched herself at him. It was the scent, she thought deliriously. It was causing her to behave like a wild animal. She had no control.

And why should she? He had kept her father in a basement, hog-tied and dying and he didn't seem to care. Bella's bunched fists hit his chest repeatedly (she'd notice the throbbing pain later) in an attempt to beat the truth out of him.

"Stop," Edward choked, barely reigning in his hunger. He was standing on a ledge, being pulled in both directions by two very strong, very different forces.

"You kept him prisoner for no reason!" she screamed, not aware of her actions at this point. "Do you obtain some sort of sick pleasure from holding sick men in your cellar against their will?"

She only bit his hand when he shot it out to cover her mouth, though neither she nor he could feel the pain of her action.

He couldn't think. All he could breathe was that scent, wrapping around him, even as he grasped at his shirt and shook him with her accusations. And her hair: whirling around in her fury and masking the entire room with the sweet smell of her.

"Cease!" he shouted at her, baring his perfect white teeth as he watched the slow trickle of fear creep back into her features. Edward's hands had wrapped around her wrists of their own accord and dragged her close enough to feel her heart thud against his chest.

His eyes were a flat black now. So, so much darker than the basement.

Edward's eye was drawn to the hammering of her pulse point. One small bite was all it would take. She wouldn't even be in pan for long. Two, three seconds at the most. And once he was in, there was no going back.

He couldn't hear her short, pathetic breaths or feel the way her hands pushed at his chest, silently begging.

Begging what? No human could possibly dream up the thoughts he was having about her. Lust, most definitely. But it was a lust for something other than the delicate frame pressed against him.

His control had zoomed away long before Alice had gone. It was only a matter of time, wasn't it? Forty-nine years, along with the fifty-odd years he'd spent before their captivity was too long to resist human blood. Especially when it was before him like this, sheathed only by that thin barrier of skin. Especially when it was hers.

Bella wanted to take her gaze away from the hungry, dangerous look in this man's eyes. She had a feeling about what he wanted, and it was most certainly something she wasn't willing to give up without a fight.

Her thoughts on the issue were brought to a screeching halt at the firmly spoken words: "Edward, stop."

Carlisle's steps were measured as he inched closer to Edward and Bella. If he moved to suddenly, Edward would abandon all pretenses of fighting instinct. "Let her go, Edward. You'll only regret it later."

_Listen to him!_ Bella wanted to shout.

"You're going to hate yourself in the long run, Edward. It will only hurt you. Just leave her be and we'll puzzle it out together."

Hurt him? How could it possibly hurt him to just bite and then be free of this chokehold his thirst had over him. Just a little taste. One, and then he'd be done. He promised.

Edward was still making promises to himself when Carlisle wrestled him away from the girl and pinned him to the floor.

He could see her chocolate brown eyes, wide, curious and holding that small spark of pity he'd come to recognize well.

* * *

Charlie awoke in an unfamiliar bed. Shapes of dull browns, siennas, and muds swam before his eyes with no apparent desire to settle anytime soon. 

"Charlie? If you can hear me, say, 'I'm going to buy Billy a cider in town'." The voice was all too familiar. A lighter mahogany color danced in front of his nose. He tried to grab it with one of his hands, only to find it wouldn't move. He could barely feel his hand at all…

He twisted his head frantically. "I'm paralyzed," he said hoarsely. "Dear Lord, I'm paralyzed!"

"Oh, erm…" Someone in the room cleared their throat sheepishly. "That's my fault, Charlie. I hadn't realized I was sitting on your hand for a while there. It's probably just numb."

Jacob Black, all six feet of him swam into Charlie's view. He hadn't changed at all, nor had his father who grinned crookedly at Charlie from his wheelchair.

"It's about time, LazyBones, we were beginning to think you'd taken the whole twenty year nap," Billy said patting his good hand.

"Where am I?" Charlie croaked.

"The reservation," a feminine voice said from the doorway. Emily, Sam Uley's wife, swept into the room like a queen. She spared disapproving looks at Jacob and Billy who immediately blushed and looked thoroughly chastised. "No soup, no warm blankets; do you want the man to die?"

"We were getting to it," Jacob mumbled. "You didn't happen to bring any of that soup, did you?"

"Always thinking of food, that one," she said conversationally to Charlie as she felt his forehead. "Well, the fever's broken, Chief Swan. And at least these two hooligans didn't let you drown in your bathwater."

"We're capable of taking care of our friend, Emily," Billy said, pouting. Emily was his daughter; not biologically, of course, but blood couldn't strengthen their relationship. He continued to grumble when Emily patted his cheek and smiled, but flushed with pleasure.

"Are you feeling hungry?" Emily asked perching on the edge of the bed. "And I don't mean you, Jacob Black, bottomless pit though you may be."

Charlie's throat was as dry as a bone and he nodded an affirmative as Emily leapt up to fetch him a bowl. His eyes almost rolled back in his head when he smelled her reheating the soup on the stove. There was no illness on Earth that couldn't he cure by a dose of Emily's chicken soup—a fact all the males in her life knew well enough to feign sickness every now and again to get a bit.

While Jacob turned up his nose and let it lead him to the kitchen, Billy asked, "Charlie, where have you been? We found you and your horse lying in the grass not a short ways from here…"

Billy's words were drowned out as all the events of the past 48 hours came flooding back to Charlie. The wolves, the woman with red eyes, the pale creatures, the darkness, Bella—

Oh, Bella. She had to be home. She just _had _to be. He had dreamed everything. Lord knew his mother had always worried about his sleepwalking when he was younger. Yes, that was it. He'd merely dreamed up the entire thing. Bella was probably at home, worried sick over him and here he was _sleepwalking_ again for the first time in thirty years. He almost laughed aloud at the thought.

"Charlie? Are you even listening?"

No, he wasn't. He had to see Bella, had to be sure he'd only imagined it.

"What happened to your wrists?"

Charlie stared with open-mouthed horror at his wrists, bandaged neatly with small spots of red marring the stark white.

"Oh God. It's true. Billy," Charlie said in a hushed voice, "you have to believe me."

Billy leaned forward in his wheelchair, slightly dubious. "About what, Charlie? Are you in trouble?"

"I was chased by wolves on my way to Ternett a couple of days past. Big—no _huge_ monsters they were," Charlie said demonstrating with his hands. He explained everything to Billy, leaving no detail out from the man who was his best friend.

By the time Charlie had finished his tale, Billy's hands were gripping the arms of the wheelchair, his knuckles white.

"Wolves, you say?" he asked, trying to keep the tension out of his voice.

Charlie's face screwed up in confusion. After all that, the man found the wolves the most important part? "Yes, yes, they attacked me, ran me down until I thought I would die."

Billy turned his face away from Charlie's suspicious look. "How many were there?" He asked fiddling with the wedding ring on his left hand, still there from Jacob's mother's death nearly thirteen years prior.

"Erm, five. No, six. They didn't look like any wolves I'd ever seen. I didn't even know there were wolves this close to Forks, did you?"

"Six, are you certain?" Billy pressed not answering. "Not five?"

Charlie frowned, looking exasperated. "No, I'm not sure. I was mostly preoccupied running for my life, Billy. Look, I know you have this fascination with wolves—have, for as long as I've known you, for whatever reason—but that's not important."

"The people," Billy said, steering the subject away from dangerous ground. "What did they look like?"

"Gorgeous," Charlie said before he realized what he was saying. "I mean…well, they were. And so pale. Like they never went into the sunlight, you know?"

"Pale? Were they…" He paused in thought, wondering how to phrase his question to dodge any suspicions from Charlie. "Did they seem sick?"

Charlie's eyes glossed over as he remembered the dangerous beauties. "No. Too strong to be sick. And what a peculiar color their eyes were. Sort of like that stone Sam brought back from his trip to California." Charlie closed his eyes and tried to picture them. "Not brown, exactly, but—"

"Topaz?" Billy said.

"Soup's on, boys," Emily said breezing into the room with a covered pot that smelled too good to be true. She slapped Jacob's hand away when he reached for the ladle. "Chief here gets the first taste."

The men drank their soup hungrily, making Emily beam with pride. She felt generous to give everyone second helpings (and Jacob a third when he begged) and then left them to tidy up the masculine kitchen, devoid of all cleaning supplies except water.

"Billy, Bella's in danger," Charlie insisted when Emily was out of hearing distance. "Those people they have her."

Billy stared at him for a long time, searching his panicked face. "Charlie, I think you might have hit your head or something. Wolves, mystical women, strange people who held you hostage for no reason? Come now, man. Even I can't believe that." He grinned. "Doesn't it sound like a children's story, Jacob?"

Jacob coughed and nodded, not looking at Charlie.

"See now," Billy continued as if Jacob's hesitant admission made all the difference, "you're just tired, though I don't see how you could be sleeping as long as you did."

"You don't believe me?" Charlie said slowly, realization dawning. "You honestly don't believe me? Do you think I could imagine something like this?" He could hear the desperate incredulity in his voice. His own _best friend_ was calling him a liar?

"That's not it, I just…look, you had a fall, you bumped your head, you maybe have some things mixed up, Charlie, that's all." Billy wheeled himself toward the door. "It's just morning now, but get some rest, all right? You will feel better when you wake."

Jacob glanced at Charlie quickly, looking entirely apologetic and slightly confused. "I'll be here when you wake, Chief, in my room."

He closed the door behind him, leaving Charlie stunned and frightened.

He _hadn't_ dreamed it up, damn it, the bandages were proof. It was so far-fetched, true, but he wouldn't make up stories about something so real. He couldn't create that kind of pain, misery, terror with his mind, no matter how smart he was. And damn it, he wouldn't put Bella in any kind of danger, real or otherwise.

It was true. All of it. And if he was the only one to believe it that was fine too, because he had a feeling no one he knew was going to be of any help. _I'll have to go it alone, save Bella from the nightmare I've gotten us both entangled in…_

Charlie fingered the bandages that masked the swelling of his wrists.

…_Or die trying._

* * *

Billy Black was a man of many faces. He could be the cheerful father who told harmless ghost stories to Jacob and his friends, the proud fisher who bragged over all his catches (real or make-believe), and a downright scary man when he wanted to be. 

Right now, he was plenty scary, though his son towered over him by at least two feet. "Jake, you were running with them, weren't you? Away from the reservation, even though I warned you not to?"

Jacob toed the worn rug of the living room with his foot. "Sam invited us to go run somewhere where no one could hear us and we could practice our talking. I did not think it an issue."

Billy almost roared out, "Not an issue? You were so close to Forks! You, with your restraint barely better than a blood-sucker!" He saw his son cringe at the comparison. "You are no better than them if you attack innocent people, which you almost did! My best friend, Jacob."

"I don't even remember what happened," Jacob said stiffly. "It isn't as though I planned to attack Charlie. I wasn't myself. The wolf took over."

"Which wouldn't have happened if you'd simply done as I asked!" Billy said. "We are here to protect Forks, not to go gallivanting about the woods at night for no reason. How can we do our duty if one of our own wolves is the one doing the damage? Charlie could have _died_, Jacob. What would you have done?"

Jacob felt his body tremble with anger. "You cannot understand how difficult it is to change so young. You were more than twenty when it happened. I am barely sixteen. How could you possibly know? I apologize for hurting Charlie, unintentional as it was. Are you pleased?"

He whirled around, not waiting for Billy's answer, and slammed the door to his room.

Billy rubbed a brown hand over his face. Charlie would have to be watched from now on. He could not know anything, for his own safety.

Sam was outside when Billy wheeled himself onto the porch. "I heard Jacob call," he said simply, by means of explanation. "He's angry."

"I don't have time to deal with Jacob's tantrum right now, Sam, or the fact that you led him off the reservation without asking me." He sighed.

"We need to have a meeting," Billy stated, looking up at the sun which was still slowly ascending its way in the sky. "It's about the Cold Ones."


	9. Chapter 8

_**For Anna Mei, the warrior princess**_

_**And for Kelsey, 'cause anyone with the grace to accept orange and green camouflage socks deserves a trophy**_

**Chapter Eight**

Bella squinched her eyes shut and wrapped her arms around her middle to quell the not-so-silent musings of her stomach. Rocking gently in a ball on the floor, she tried to think of less tempting things than the food that she had eaten at Dr. Johnson's home. Had it really been over 24 hours since her last meal?

This entire situation was surreal. Hours before, she had been in a comfortable bed being fed while others did work. It seemed like a lifetime ago, before she had gotten trapped in this mystery—one both dangerous and puzzling.

Her stomach growled again, louder this time. She could almost laugh at the notion that it expected food.

Her mind was drawn back repeatedly to the image of that man's eyes fixated on her, silently promising that he had failed once, but wouldn't do so again.

He looked human, despite his devastating beauty. However his eyes were almost… animalistic. They frightened her far more that the wolves had.

The wolves, at least, she knew what they wanted. It was in a wolf's nature to seek fresh meat. But _his_ eyes…God only knew what he wanted to do to her.

Bella blushed when she remembered how she'd originally thought he would…take advantage of her. How ridiculous. It wasn't lust she could detect in those flat black eyes.

It was hunger.

And, God help her, it was so, so different from the hunger she was feeling.

She couldn't help but feel that as the blonde man wrestled him to the floor he felt more pity for her attacker than her.

Nevertheless, they'd certainly showed no mercy when the blonde man and another—more burly and intimidating but no less handsome—had latched onto her arms and lifted her effortlessly. Instinct had her struggling to free herself from the cold grasp despite the blonde's somewhat soothing words.

"Shh, don't fight. You'll only injure yourself."

The larger man had seemed astonished that she was resisting at all. Bella could have sworn that he queried in a low voice, "Are you _certain_ she's human?"

Filled with a ridiculous sense of indignation, Bella rolled over. Was it wrong to be angry that she wasn't receiving any sympathy at all when she and Charlie were the victims?

But, goodness, she was hungry and her stomach kept loudly protesting the lack of food.

"There is nothing we can do about that now."

The unexpected voice tore a weak yelp from Bella's throat and jerked her eyes open. The room they'd dragged her to was so much lighter than the basement. The cheerful sun that ran through the single window combined almost sinisterly with the dark mood that had settled upon the room. There was dust everywhere, coating the walls, the floor, and judging by the color of the people, them as well.

The voice came from the girl Bella didn't recognize. At least, she didn't _think _she did. The more sensible part of her conscience nagged that if they'd met before, Bella would most certainly have remembered.

Tightly curled blonde ringlets framed the girl's porcelain face. Her features were gorgeous and elegant with high cheekbones and full pink lips, but her eyes were those of every other being in this house, if not slightly darker.

The hair on the back of Bella's neck stood on end involuntarily.

Then the girl asked her a question no one had yet posed: "How in the world did you get here?"

The silence was like a blanket. Bella blinked wondering what may happen to her if she didn't answer. "I—Phil, he…" She trailed off when the girl's eyes stayed trained on her face as though looking for any fabrications on Bella's part.

"My horse," she said, somewhat annoyed. "He led me here." When the girl's features retained their look of suspicion, Bella bit out, "I have no reason to lie to you. I already know what you will do to me regardless of what I say."

At this the girl appeared both intrigued and amused. Bella wanted to snatch that smug look off her beautiful face. "Oh?"

"I have witnessed too much, have I not?" Bella didn't seem to understand what she was saying anymore, nor did she care. "You kidnapped an innocent man…"

The girl's plump lips thinned.

"No, my mistake. An _ill_ innocent man," Bella continued undaunted. "Held him captive, bound and gagged, for no apparent reason…"

The girl's eyes flashed in warning and Bella had the fleeting thought that provoking her would be similar to sticking a sleeping lioness in the eye.

"…well, you simply cannot let me escape knowing all that I do, can you?"

Folding both arms across her chest the girl asked, "And you seem to know quite a bit, do you not Miss Swan?" Her tone implied the unspoken question, 'Do you _want_ to die?'

Bella's surge of confident was snuffed out like a candle. What was this obsession she seemed to have with verbally attacking these people?

"N-Not a tremendous bit, no," she stammered.

There was no anticipating this girl's moves. One moment, she was staring at Bella with that scrutinizing gaze—in the next she was doubled over with laughter.

"And here I thought Emmett was lying. You _are_ an interesting creature."

For the first time Bella noticed that while she sat in her heap absolutely drenched in the sun streaming in through the windows, this girl stood back by the wall enveloped in the shadows.

_She_ was interesting? An entire book could be written with the secrets swarming like locusts in this house and the strong, beautiful, terrifying people who inhabited it. Bella lowered her head, feeling like a plain brown moth being compared to a butterfly.

"I'm not interesting," Bella grumbled under her breath. "I'm hungry."

The girl sighed, all traces of mirth gone. "Aren't we all?" Her words were almost…longing, like she was wishing desperately for something she couldn't have, something she hadn't had for a long while. "But as I said before, there is nothing I can do to remedy that situation, such as it is."

Bella's head snapped up, too quickly to take in the flash of the girl's nostrils flaring at her movement.

"Y-You are just going to starve me, then?" Her voice trembled with the panicked fear of one who has not eaten and has no prospects of doing so in the near future.

The girl threw up her hands. "I don't know _what_ we are going to do with you, Miss Swan! Frankly, we were not expecting guests—"

"Is that what I am, then? A guest?"

Bella's temper, held simmering due to her hunger and fear, flared up again. "I think the better word in the _situation, such as it is_ would be captive."

In an instant, a white hand shot out to wrap around Bella's throat. She was dragged forcefully into the part of the room where the sunlight did not reach. The girl's teeth were bared now, her hand angling Bella's neck to look up at her viciously divine face.

"Do not _speak_ to me of being captive," she spat, punctuating each word with a reflexive squeeze on Bella's windpipe. After two wheezing breaths, Bella decided the best thing to do was hold her breath and stave off the panic suffocation for as long as she could.

"You silly girl. What can you know of being captive?" It was not a question, but Bella would be unable to answer anyway with the grip the girl had on her larynx. "You, who only hours ago frolicked in the sunshine like a child?"

The girl looked down at Bella's neck where she could see purple imprints of her fingers forming colorfully. They seemed to jerk her back into the reality and she let go as though she had been burned.

Bella fell to the floor like a rag doll.

When she had recovered her lost oxygen, she found the girl gone, and no real trace of her ever being there except the sweet scent in the air and bruises the color of violets dotting her neck.

* * *

"The Cullens live."

Billy Black's words were answered with loud jeers and shouts of disbelief. He could see Sam Uley protesting the loudest and his fiancée Emily sitting at his side making no movements to calm him, a lost cause.

She was the only woman attending (as Sam didn't like her to sit home alone), but seemed to be quite in her element among the thirty-odd men gathered. Her eyes met Billy's among the uproar of outraged men all around her and she smiled quickly in encouragement, as though she didn't want anyone else to notice.

Billy raised his hands for silence. He didn't get it.

The hall had not been used for some time, as the Quileute tribe had maintained a period of peace. The setting sun streamed through windows on both sides and men and their stools peppered the floor. Only Billy sat on the raised stage, as he had called them together. At the very front were the other elders looking deeply disgruntled, but remaining quiet.

There in the back was Jacob, the only man who seemed undisturbed by Billy's news. He was flanked by his two best friends Embry Call and Quil Ateara, who were shouted and shaking their fists, their stools overturned behind them. Jacob was studiously avoiding his father's gaze with a mixture of hurt, anger, and shame.

_This is ridiculous_, Billy thought. Although he was somewhat proud of the tribe and the fact that they all seemed ready and willing to act now that things had turned sour, Billy was fed up with their mindless screaming.

"QUIET!" he roared.

The men adjusted their fallen stools grudgingly and fell into them with only a few mumbles.

"The Cold Ones, whom we thought to be dead, are alive," Billy said. He clenched his fists on the arms of his wheelchair, ready for the heated arguments of his tribe.

As expected, Sam jumped up immediately with only a slight hindrance from the would-be-placating arm of his fiancée.

"They have always _been_ dead, Billy. That's what they _are_." These words were greeted with some chuckles from the younger men, who fell silent under Sam's irritated glare. "You told us they had been destroyed long ago."

Billy had anticipated being blamed, but the fact did little to assuage his temper. "I told you they were _gone_," he fumed over the protests of the crowd. "You stupidly assumed that they would not be back."

Sam bared his teeth. "Was it stupidity to trust that the legend you yourself grew up knowing had finally come true and that we were free of those bloodsuckers for good?"

A taller man in the middle stood as well, tossing his long hair over one shoulder. "_Legends_, Uley? You all trusted the fate of our race to the hands of some storyteller who died long ago?"

Sam turned on him. "You forget your place, Caleb. These legends have saved our skins too many times to count."

The younger members, seated near the back were gossiping among themselves. Jacob wasn't taking part in the conversations around him and had instead trained his eyes on a spot just over Billy's shoulder.

Billy's eyes narrowed as he called, "If you have something too add, kindly share it with the rest of us."

Embry colored. "I, well, it—Uh, the legend said that the Cold Ones would be imprisoned in despair by their own hands. And that it would destroy them, right?" There were a few nods from the heads around him. "Why shouldn't we believe that it was true?"

"Because it is a fairy tale written hundreds of years ago!" the man called Caleb cried.

Billy frowned deeply. "Actually, Caleb, it was written shortly before I was born."

Caleb blushed furiously and sat down.

"Embry is correct. We had no reason to think that the legend was a falsehood," Sam asserted. There was no doubt in anyone's mind that he resented Billy for his comment about the tribe's intelligence and was eager to prove that his beliefs in the legend were justified.

"Chief Swan knows."

There was a shocked silence before Sam burst out, "You _told_ him?"

Billy looked appalled. "Wrong again. That is two for two, Sam. You must be on a streak. Of course I did not tell him. If anyone is to blame for Chief Swan knowing, it would be you."

The heads of the tribe moved back and forth between Sam and Billy as though watching a badminton match.

"Me? How could I possibly tell him when I can count on one hand the number of times we have spoken?"

"Words, Samuel, are not necessary when actions speak so much more clearly," Billy said.

"Explain," Sam growled.

"Two nights ago, you and the five boys who had recently transformed left La Push. Am I correct?"

Sam had the good grace to look chastised. "We were working on our control, Billy," he stated through his blush. "As I recall, that was the point of the task you assigned anyway."

"Control, yes," said Billy gravely. "A massacre, most certainly not."

Emily's eyes darted fearfully to Sam, not wanting to believe. She mouthed the word, unable to say it, noting that Sam could not meet her eyes.

"An accident, more like," he shouted. "The boys can hardly remember what went on that night!"

"My point exactly!" Billy thundered. "How the hell could you have thought to take them and attack my best friend in the process?"

Sam looked like he was struggling with information and whether or not he should disclose some of it.

"Billy," he said quietly. "I did not tell you what happened that night, because something occurred that I cannot explain."

At these words, everyone perked up considerably. Jacob, eyes now alert on his father's face, tried to think back.

All he remembered was a great flash, like someone being struck by lightning, and an immense amount of pain, like every bone in his body had shattered. That night, he was only just managed to slink back into bed, agony searing through his muscles. The next morning, on the other hand, he felt absolutely nothing.

"We were running. The bond was far weaker in the woods of Forks than here and we had to resort to howls and remain close to communicate, but…" Sam hesitated and made a gesture with his hands. "One of us wandered off."

It was clear by the way Sam avoided names that he did not wish to reveal any single wolf for the crime. It was even clearer to Jacob when Billy's glare bored into him, that he was not fooled by Sam's anonymity.

"It was quite a task searching, especially with the connection so severed. But we did hear that he had spotted a human…" Sam trailed off, glancing down at Emily, who was fingering her dress in silence.

"It is a wolf's instincts to chase that which runs. The human—Chief Swan, I mean—he tried to escape. He obviously was not counting on meeting a wolf and he…panicked."

Jacob refused to break his father's stare and stared back defiantly. The time for apologies had long passed.

"We had to find him, to prevent an…accident. But when the rest of the boys caught his scent—Well, there was very little I could do to control them, not with their powers being so wild and untamed."

Billy looked like he wanted to show Sam how untamed he could be, but said nothing.

"Charlie fell…hard. He couldn't get up," Sam continued.

Emily was now sniffing at her tears and was adamantly looking at the green of her dress.

"It-It was out of my hands," Sam said. "I could not—I could only hope—"

He trailed off and the tribe stared at him: some with confusion, others with anger. The four boys in the back were by all appearances in a trance, staring with apparent fascination at the floor. Jacob felt several eyes on him, but paid them no heed.

"But then," Sam said, jolting the silence, "there was a light so bright, I saw nothing. I-I feared that now I would not be able to help Charlie at all, not when I had been blinded. And then I felt a pain like none I have ever felt." He gave an involuntary shudder. "I thought we had been attacked, but when I awoke, there were no traces of anything having been there but us. We chased after him again, searching for what had saved him. He reached a gate and threw himself inside. There was some kind of…force that prevented us from passing that gate, or for that matter, seeing what was beyond it."

Sam's gaze traveled to the top of Emily's head, as though willing her to look at him. She did not. Though, when he sat feeling defeated, her fingers—wet from tears—interlaced with his.

"I believe Charlie has met the Cold Ones. He told me, though he may have been delirious at the time, that they have his daughter," Billy said loudly.

"Isabella Swan?" asked a voice in the middle. There was a loud rumbling, indicating several private conversations about this new development.

"We must retrieve her. It is our duty to protect Forks and its citizens."

"They cannot bite her, anyway. It would break the treaty!"

"Does the treaty apply anymore?"

"How can we even know Chief Swan was not lying? Off his rocker, that one."

"ENOUGH!" Billy bellowed. "Yes, we have a duty to protect, but look how easily our new members lost control. How can you expect us to battle the Cold Ones if we cannot even stave off instinct to kill an innocent human?"

There was an awkward quiet, punctuated by the abashed looks on the men's faces.

"Understand this: there will be no leaving the reservation for you five until you have managed to contain your wolfish tendencies." Four of the five boys in the back nodded their ducked heads.

Sam said, "That could be months! Isabella Swan may well be bitten before then!"

Billy looked incredibly sad. "It was so disappointing to find your new pack so lacking in control, Samuel. But without them, more people will die."

"That's it then?" said Jacob, speaking to his father for the first time all day. "We just sacrifice Bella for the good of the town? Until we have more _control_?"

"What other choice do we have, Jacob?" asked Sam surveying him with unspeakable remorse in his deep brown eyes. "We can only hope that luck is with Isabella now."

Jacob stood and violently kicked over his stool. "That isn't good enough!" Thirty-odd pairs of eyes watched him depart through the forest, tossing branches out of his way.

Emily stood tremulously, eying her fiancé. The crowd of Quileutes was completely quiet in deference to one of their only female members. "What of Charlie, Billy?" Her voice faltered in the wake of vivid stares.

"He cannot suspect us," said Billy sounding tired. "And yet, I know he will stop at nothing to rescue his daughter. Sam, the pack will need training before we are able to go. I ask that you make it as quick as possible." Sam nodded dully, staring at his hands. "Emily, please go see Ruby, and request that she take over some of her apple pie to Chief Swan in his time of need. We must do everything to ensure that he _does not go back_ to that place."

Billy wheeled himself through down the aisle of the narrow hall and said at the door, "And above all, no one must let Charlie know that he is being watched."

* * *

"Edward, this has to stop."

Alice sat on the floor of Edward's room while he sat in the armchair he normally occupied. However, there was a new haunted quality in his ocher eyes that disturbed her far more than his rages had.

"You must see how wrong it is to keep her here? Her father could return at any moment. With _more people_. Please," Alice begged, "there has never been any better time to explain the curse, Edward. Why will you not trust me?"

Those frightening eyes latched on to hers and did not let go. "I am afraid, Alice," he said quietly, "that you cannot possibly understand what you are asking of me." His voice was so emotionless. There were times she wished she was the one who could read minds and find out exactly what was happening inside the mystery of Edward.

"Make me understand," she implored. "I _have _to."

Then a small, even scarier smile graced his lips. "No, Alice, not anymore. I have it under control. There is no need to fear. In exactly one year, we shall all be free once more."

"Under control?" Alice gasped. "Edward, what does that _mean_?"

It would be broken, her mind screamed. Why did it matter what Edward was thinking? If the spell was broken, then they would be able to question him about it all they wanted later and enjoy their freedom once more!

But at what cost? Who was Edward hurting to gain this freedom? The lives of an old man and his child had already been disrupted. How many more people would have to be torn apart before seven undead creatures to try and live as humans again?

Alice slipped out of the room—stunned, shocked, and more scared than ever--leaving Edward with that curious smile on his face.

* * *

Bella's throat was sore and she was sure her stomach had found a way to eat away at itself to survive the hardship she was putting it through. Moaning slightly, she turned over to see that it was night once more.

"Are you awake yet, Miss Swan?"

The voice was back. And the eyes, those that had kept her awake through the evening. How could she sleep for the fear that he would return? And yet…why was some part of her so desperate for him to?

What did it matter anymore? And yet Bella found herself wondering if death awaited her now in this very room with the man who had already once tried to kill her.

"Yes," she said, her voice much raspier that normal.

"I wish to discuss something with you." Edward stepped out of the shadows where the moonlight could illuminate the gold of his eyes.

All pretenses of indifference gone, Bella very much wished to run away. But she could say nothing when he sat beside her.

He seemed to be choosing his words carefully (very strange for someone who seemed ready to eat her at their last meeting…), Bella noted. She tilted her head so that her hair fell forward and curtained her face. If she didn't have to see it coming, perhaps death wouldn't be so bad.

"I just want to go home," she whispered, sounding like a small child.

Edward's dead heart drooped. "I know. So do I." How long had it been since he could call this place full of secrets and anguish and mistrust his home?

God, how long had it been since he'd seen any one in his family smile? For him home was wherever his family could be happiest. And unfortunately, at the moment, that meant his home was in the hands of his young human girl…

"I ask of you, Miss Swan, to help me."

If he had asked her to perform a quick foxtrot, Bella couldn't have been more stunned. "_Help_ you?" she asked incredulously.

"Yes. I ask that you remain here…as a guest for a time."

Bella's head was shaking in horror. _Stay here? With these people who came so close to killing her so many times?_

The shocked "No!" was out before she realized she had even spoken.

She could hear him shift on the floor beside her. "It is not by _choice_ that I seek your aid, Miss Swan. I assure you, if I were not in the direst of emotional straits, I would not ask." But it was killing him inside to know what he had done.

Edward's subconscious had come up with so many reasons as to why he should find Miss Swan.

He was addicted to looking at the gentle swing of her hair. He had not yet thoroughly discovered her face and did not intend to. He could not bear to see the anguish in another human's face and somehow knew what it would cost him to see it in hers.

There was the way she had fought him like no other human he had seen. Refused to be taken in by his beauty.

And her scent, although he was currently unable to take it in, was to die for.

With a pang, Edward realized that she almost _had_ died for it. And because of _him_.

He couldn't help but wonder if her decision could really break the spell. It seemed almost too easy, though it had been no easy task at all for anyone in the house, least of all her.

True: she had chosen to trade her place for her father's, for a place she was unsure of the details. If she remained with them for a year, would the spell not break as simply as he had explained to Alice?

But, Isabella Swan had been in a position Edward hoped to never find himself in. Had anyone asked him to trade his life for Carlisle's, he would have agreed in an instant. How could exchanging her life for her father's be considered 'her own free will'? He was almost certain Rowena would agree that it was not sufficient to cover the cause of the curse.

This was his chance. If she would only agree to stay, no one would be hurt and the curse would be lifted. "You will be treated as a guest, should you choose to stay," said Edward as though he had not just been battling with himself internally.

"Oh, yes," Bella replied scathingly. "Because you have all been so very friendly thus far."

To his great surprise and shame a smile was tugging at his lips. Edward's mind nearly keeled over in shock.

"Ahem, well. I promise you that no harm will come to you if you stay, Miss Swan."

Bella idly fingered the tender bruises on her pale skin. These people were more than capable of harming her—that much she knew.

"And," she said, "if I refuse?"

Edward stood suddenly. It had not occurred to him what would happen in the even that she actually turned him down. "If you refuse, Miss Swan," he said in clipped tones, "you are free to go. But there will be no guarantees of your safety once you leave this room."

He felt like a great bumbling monster. The very air around her exuded delicacy. His little finger could crush her skull in an instant, and there she sat being defiant, albeit somewhat scared. Did she not know how taxing it was to hold his breath for fear of attacking her and ruining his family's only chance?

_Go,_ her conscience shouted. _If you have enough of a head start, you will be fine._

Bella's head lifted and raked over his perfect features. His jaw was tensed and he wasn't breathing.

_Am I that revolting?_ She thought and then wildly wondered why she even cared.

She had to escape, that was true, for Charlie was ill somewhere and needed her help. But this man need not know…and perhaps she may very well get her head start…

"How long?" she asked. "I mean, how long would I have to stay?"

"As long as necessary, Miss Swan," Edward answered enigmatically.

Bella started to question what she could possibly be necessary for and found herself trapped in the depth of Edward's eyes.

When she opened her mouth, it was to say one word:

"Yes."


	10. Chapter 9

**_For Anna Mei's birthday. Hope it's awesome :)_**

**Chapter Nine**

"Jake, calm down."

"Calm!" The word exploded out on an incredulous breath.

Jacob watched Sam with barely suppressed rage as the elder man folded himself and sat cross-legged on the grass, staring up at the full moon. There was nothing in the unerringly restrained features to indicate Sam's unhappiness, or that anything in life was troubling him at all.

"Why is it that the people who are always insisting that I stay calm," Jacob questioned, only just biting back the scathing words he wished to shout, "are the fools who managed to anger me in the first place?"

"You are not helping Isabella Swan by constantly losing your temper, are you?" Sam said in that infuriatingly sensible tone Jacob had come to hate.

Jacob pointed an accusatory finger at him. "You are not helping Bella at all!"

"I can understand your desire to right your—_our—_mistakes, Jacob."

It seemed the entire transformation had been a mistake from the start. Jacob hadn't asked to become a werewolf. He'd thought himself deathly ill when the thermometer had registered him at well over 110 degrees. His skin had been practically scalding to the touch. Yet he himself was so cold. His teeth chattered so hard, after two days he was unable to speak. Billy had been there, fending off well-wishing visitors and holding his hand. Then there was pain, so intense…

A mistake. That's what the entire ordeal had been reduced to.

Brown eyes blazed. "You can sit there so totally unaffected by all of this. You don't know anything! You cannot possible understand what I feel!"

A sudden look of understanding dawned on Sam's face. "So _that_ is what this is about."

"What?"

"I 'cannot understand what you feel.'" Sam scoffed looking vaguely disgusted. "Do you think me that simple? She _is _what you feel. You have feelings for this girl, do you not?"

Jacob's mouth worked for several seconds before any intelligible phrase was heard. "I—Just a—what would make you say that?"

Sam merely glanced at him. "I am engaged to Emily, Jake, but it was not _always_ that way."

Jacob sat beside Sam, glaring at his boots. "I have only met her once or twice, and always in the presence of both our fathers." The words seemed to jar Jacob into the fact that he wasn't on good terms with _his_ father, for he stopped talking.

"I loved Emily the first moment I saw her." Sam had a small smile on his face. Jacob aimed his gaze in the direction of Sam's and found himself staring at nothing. "She is so beautiful. My father had once told me that we—" He paused to point at Jacob and himself. "—we may never marry nor have children because of what we are. Because not many women would ever endure the madness that we become."

Jacob wriggled slightly on the spot with tradition male discomfort at discussing his feelings. "So, what happened?" he asked, curious despite himself.

"Emily is different. She is just…different from everything I ever imagined." Sam grinned boyishly. "I have never been so happy that my father was wrong."

Jacob blinked. "I do not think that I could ever care so much about another person that I could forgive them being a monster."

Sam flinched visibly. Then his calm demeanor fell back into place. "Things are not always as they seem, Jacob." He smirked at the sky. "Storybooks, for instance, dictate that we should be howling at the moon and attacking villagers. I don't feel particularly bloodthirsty, do you?"

A small smile tugged at Jacob's lips. "Not really."

"In fact, the full moon is when we are at our most controlled. Ironic, is it not?" Sam grinned at Jacob who was still fighting back laughter.

"It's the same with love. There are times when you expect one thing, and find another thing entirely."

Waves of panic washed over Jake. "I do not l-love her! I am worried." He closed his eyes and shuddered. "I am terrified for her. The very thought that she may at this moment have become a meal…" He broke off and shook his head.

_He loves her_, Sam confirmed with a slight, sad smile. "Working yourself into a fit does nothing for her or you, Jacob."

Jacob nodded, feeling a little sick. "I will work on controlling my temper."

"It's time I headed home. You know, I just I might be able to…_convince _Emily to make pancakes." He waggled his eyebrows. "You will join the rest of the pack for breakfast tomorrow morning." It was not a question, but Jacob nodded in subservience.

Sam, taking his cue, rose fluidly and left Jacob to his thoughts. It was only after he had gone that Jacob whispered the words, "For Bella."

* * *

Nothing. There was absolutely nothing. 

Then it was as if two hands had grabbed his arms and dragged him somewhere else. His mind flashed back to a small vision of himself as a young child, his hair as unruly as ever, perched on his father's knee.

"**Alright Edward, are you ready for another riddle?"**

"**Yes!"**

**Edward, Sr. bounced a delighted little boy on his leg. "Let's see. Name something that smells, but has no nose."**

**Edward, Jr. thought for a moment. "An outhouse?"**

**His father laughed boisterously—something he did very rarely—casting a glance at the doorway to the kitchen. "Make sure your mother does not hear that, Ed."**

**Elizabeth Masen chuckled from her position in front of the stove where she was supervising the cook's stew. "I hear all, dear."**

"**Another!" clamored Edward, Jr. clapping his hands. His father scratched his head in mock-deep thought. **

"**Hmm. Alright. What is the one thing you can never do?"**

**Edward, Jr. looked at his mother. "Put my elbows on the table. Because Mama said so."**

**His mother beamed. "True, Ed, but I do not think that is what your father meant."**

"**No, son. You can never do nothing."**

"**Never do **_**anything**_**, Father," Edward responded automatically, the words not actually registering.**

"**No, I mean that it is impossible to do nothing. We are **_**always**_** doing something, even when we don't know it."**

Where had _that_ come from? He'd all but forgotten the faces and voices of his parents, but the vision was clear as if it had happened yesterday.

His father had been telling him a harmless riddle, but it was true. It was impossible to do nothing. You were always thinking or sitting or standing…

The vision jarred Edward to remember the presence of the human.

Incomprehensible, Edward thought, simply unfeasible. Thinking nothing was the same as doing nothing: unaccomplishable. How can someone be thinking of nothing? Was it remotely possible for even the most unintelligent being to not think?

There was instinct, he supposed, which could be classified as a temporary lapse of the mind. When a creature gave over to instinct due to hunger or fright or protectiveness, every sense was sharpened and even the bear-trap called the brain opened a bit more fully. Because survival required every bit of cunning and skill a creature could muster.

That must be it. Isabella Swan was functioning purely on instinct.

She was frightened, most certainly. There was the tell-tale drumming of her pulse and the unevenness of her breathing. Moreover he could almost see her teeth sinking nervously into the plump lower lip and her fingers trembled slightly.

If you backed a mountain lion into a corner, it would no doubt transform its terror into adrenaline which turned into instinct.

Isabella Swan was the proverbial mountain lion.

_But what was she thinking?_

Bella looked up to find him staring at her intently. Almost immediately, her heart accelerated even more and her breathing staggered. She had the ridiculous urge to swipe her cheek for any dirt. But he wasn't looking quite so much like she was…undesirable, or even strange.

It suddenly occurred to her that she was being studied.

"Am I to suppose you, too, find me interesting?" she asked with a hint of malice. The word was seriously beginning to bother her. _Interesting_: it was a word one used when one read a particularly boring book. Or surveyed an abysmal portrait. Or tasted some truly lumpy porridge.

Human beings weren't meant to be _interesting_. Temperamental, yes. Eccentric, caring, kind, rude, fine. But there was so great a margin of error with the word interesting because there was no tried and true method to discovering the real meaning behind it.

How could one speak without thinking? Edward seethed. The words didn't fully register so much as the fact that she had said them.

Frustrated beyond belief, Bella questioned more loudly, "And I shall be ostracized as well as starved in my stay as your guest?"

Bella's mouth seemed to have a will of its own. Did it know how much she wanted to be away from here? And here it was practically begging to stay! She wanted to clap her hands securely over it until she could be certain it would behave.

"Starved?" Edward blinked in astonishment, truly seeing her since the first she had begun to speak. Humans eat; he should have known. How often, what exactly, where…the details were fuzzy. The only thing he remembered was that when a human was hungry, there was a strange pull from their stomachs that alerted them to the fact. It was nothing like the burning ever-present in the back of his throat that only intensified as time wore on. Still, he had promised…"You are hungry then, Miss Swan?"

Bella gave him a look she usually reserved for Michael Newton. "That is the conventional definition of the word."

Interesting was not strong enough a word to describe her, Edward thought with a dull sense of fascination. She was…incredible. He had yet to figure out whether that was a good or bad thing.

"I do not know that we shall be able to locate any food for you." He seemed to break off into his own thoughts, leaving Bella even more perturbed.

"Do you not eat in this house at all, then?"

The flicker of warmth in Edward's stare died. His topaz eyes almost glowed. "Our diet would not interest you." There was such finality behind his words that Bella flinched.

They stared at one another for so long Bella felt her eyes begin to water. She told herself it was some kind of spell, one that made her incapable of looking away. As a young girl, she had believed in magic: of fairies and pixies and things that could appear and just as quickly disappear. It was a stage she had only halfway outgrown. And if there was someone who had magic dancing in the air around him, it was this man.

She was certain that in the fraction of a second it would take for her to blink, he could be gone.

It was startling, scary, and astounding to realize that she didn't want him to.

"I apologize."

The words were out before Bella even realized she was saying them. Why did they seem so inadequate? Why was she apologizing in the first place?

Edward appeared even more bewildered by her speech than she. "For what?"

"I…don't really…know," Bella replied slowly.

Edward felt…tired. He leaned against the wall and stared at her confused face.

It could be an act. She would have to be and exceptional actress. Her emotions were not that of a normal human girl. He was well-read enough to expect the screams of terror and pleas to be released.

Isabella Swan was another animal entirely.

Bella tilted her head to the side. What could he be doing? After everything she had endured in this house, she could only expect that he was restraining himself from hurting her to keep his word.

But why? If he injured her severely enough, he could make her stay there indefinitely. Unless he truly _did_ need her for something he wasn't giving details about…

"Who are you?" Edward demanded angrily, taking no heed to the startled gasp she gave. How could this girl be human? Even human minds were much easier to break through, regardless of his not-so-recent lack of experience.

That was it. She _wasn't_ human. His rational side argued that if it looks like, smells like, walks like—and for that matter, probably _tastes_ like—a human, then it was. And yet he himself was a living exception to that rule.

"You have addressed me by my name," Bella stated in confusion. "How can you be unaware of who I am?"

Her innocence and his lack of patience for it only served to anger him further. "I will ask you once more, Miss Swan. Who are you?"

"Nothing more or less than what you see before you," she answered in a tremulous voice, quailing in the heat of his stare.

"That cannot _be_." Over a century, Edward thought, and she is the first mind I cannot touch.

_That's it! _Bella mused with excitement. _I am not what he expected. I may leave!_

For the first time, she dragged her eyes away from his face. His clothes both intrigued and worried her. Seamstresses in Forks kept catalogues of old clothes for inspiration every now and again, but…his clothes were practically antiques…

They were so beautifully tailored. Gray fall front trousers coupled with a short-waisted double breasted dress coat, both of which fit him impeccably. She could see the high collar of his white shirt, seeming a shade darker than his skin.

There had been no question of his wealth from the very beginning. Or that he was older than he appeared. He was so refined. And she was…not.

"Am I to suppose you find me interesting, Miss Swan?" Edward quipped, throwing her words back at her.

He would have given heaven and earth to have even the briefest of glimpses into her mind. He felt…burnt, yes that was the word—burnt from her gaze sweeping over his aged clothes. There was curiosity lurking in those chocolate-brown eyes. He could feel her need to question, burning almost as hot as the sharp scrape of his thirst.

Then she blushed.

His body had a mind of its own. Edward was powerless to stop himself from avidly watching pink color flood into her pale cheeks. He had no control of his senses. Battling his thirst, he allowed himself one whiff of her scent…

It was impossible to remember, impossible to forget. It was nothing like what he had smelled before, and yet it was so familiar.

"You mock me, sir," Bella replied quietly. "I see we have two very different impressions of the definition of the word 'guest'."

He needed to leave. Now, before the thirst had a grip on him again. His footfalls were doggedly calm though, as not to alert her to his situation. "You will remain here—in this room—until I come for you, once more," Edward said tightly.

No! She was through being prisoner and was tired of being intimidated because of her lack of beauty. "I will leave this room if I so wish," Bella said firmly, staring into the black pools.

It was a blatant challenge. The monster in him wanted to show her what exactly would happen should she disobey his orders; another side of him wanted to question her, until every tiny, niggling little curiosity was satisfied.

He opted for neither. "Be my 'guest', Miss Swan." Edward's hand closed almost bruisingly on the door handle as he braced himself against it, seeking strength. "Good night."

"WAIT!"

Bella's hand was up, its fingers slightly unfurled as though she were trying to grasp something. "It appears that you know almost everything about me."

Edward wanted to scream. He knew _nothing _about her! Couldn't she see that that very fact was killing him?

"But I…I do not even know your name," she finished.

"Edward," he said shortly, and left the room.

* * *

_Silly Bella, don't be afraid of the dark._ It was Charlie's voice, echoing in her head from years ago. 

"I am not afraid of the dark," she murmured quietly to herself. "I am afraid of what lives in it."

The floor was too hard for her to find a comfortable position for more than a few minutes. There was a long circle of bare floor where her restless body had uprooted the thick dust. Bella rolled over onto her stomach and tried to ignore the pain now in her hipbones where they connected with the floor.

A fleeting thought of the voluminous bloomers more well-to-do ladies had flashed through her mind and brought a faint blush to her cheeks. Beneath her nightgown, she had only a thin pair of pantalets, which did little to cushion her body from the unyielding ground.

She rolled onto her back.

_Edward_. He was…infuriating! What had possessed her to think that she should remain in this house for another second? How could she possibly successfully escape from here unscathed?

The man—Edward—he wasn't planning on letting her leave anytime in the near future, no matter what he said. She should have…she could have…

Bella sighed. _Hindsight is always the most clear of visions._

The moon had been obscured by heavy cloud cover, and Bella was alone in the dark.

No, not alone. Because any one of these people—including Edward—could come in when she was at her most vulnerable and…

She wouldn't let her thoughts stray that far. She'd be of no use to herself if she was too scared out of her right mind to think clearly.

A thought finally dawned on her. It was late at night…even _these_ people must sleep.

If she could be quiet enough, she might be able to make her way to the door, find Phil, and leave!

The pain of Bella's throat and stomach was muffled by her sudden burst of energy. Her hand shuffled along the nearest wall, searching for the indentation of a door.

Was that—no, just a bump…Aha! The door! But where in God's name was the handle?

She moved her hand up and down the door, biting her lip in her efforts to stay silent. Pessimistic notions nagged at her. What if the door was locked? What if it was too heavy for her to get open? What if—

But then her shaking fingers grasped the handle and tugged.

The door swung open soundlessly.

If possible, it was even darker outside her room. Bella raised her hands, feeling blind, and held them in front of her.

She probably looked ridiculous. If not, then she _felt_ ridiculous. It was like being a newborn pup, blinder than a bat and twice as clumsy. Lord knew she didn't need any other impediment considering her uncanny ability to stumble on even ground.

Something hit her stomach hard. Air whooshed out of her. Bella's hands felt the horizontal column of wood. Patting it gently, she dragged her hands down and confirmed her suspicions.

A banister. Possibly one that railed off the staircase…

Right. She'd go right. If she was wrong, she could just double back and—

Bella's hand fell off the end of the banister. Turning slightly to her left, she inched out a toe, feeling for the drop-off to the first step.

She miscalculated.

Bella's foot slipped on the dust coating the stair. Her mind was already bracing for the first blow to her tumble down the staircase. Her mouth was already opened in an O to scream. Her body tensed and fell no more than a few millimeters before she felt arms like steel grasp her from behind.

"You are a bright girl, Miss Swan. Brighter than I expected."

* * *

"We will resume your training immediately, Rowena." 

If Magna expected a negative reaction to her words, she didn't get it. Her eye wandered over the delicate features of her first-born with approval. She had been taught well, Magna thought with more than a little pride. Rowena had become adept at concealing her emotions at a very young age.

_Born to be royalty_. Magna gave the equivalent of a mental smirk. _It is lucky she was born well before her sister._

Magna had long ago stopped wondering whether Narmelie would have been a good ruler. There was no doubt in her mind that her youngest daughter was bull-headed and had much too quick a temper to ever be of any use to the kingdom.

"Of course, Mother," Rowena replied smiling sagely. It was a smile Magna had come to adore; one that meant Rowena was prepared to do anything and everything she was asked to.

"I imagine you shall be an incredibly well-liked queen. The applause from the banquet tonight was nearly deafening."

Rowena nodded dutifully and asked, "Would you like more tea, Mother?"

Magna sighed, holding out her golden teacup. "Being queen, Rowena is…like holding a chicken's egg in you hand." She sipped at the hibiscus tea before continuing. "You, of course, know how…delicate and egg can be. One small slip and it breaks, irreparable. A queen holds the power in her kingdom. She can very well seek to destroy the egg and accomplish it, or she can watch it bloom into something wondrous before her eyes."

Rowena's teacup sat untouched, her eyes trained on Magna's face, unlined still after more than four thousand years of life. Hibiscus had always made her unbearably sleepy; as always, it was imperative to keep her wits about her when talking with her mother.

"A good queen will _always_ do what is best for her kingdom. Come hell or high waters, Rowena, when you are queen, the kingdom comes first. _No matter what_."

What could she be thinking? Rowena could almost see the gears in Magna's head turning, but had no clue about their end result.

"Your sister does not understand this," Magna said sadly.

Shock registered on Rowena's face before she had the opportunity to conceal it. Magna almost never mentioned Narmelie, much less to Rowena.

"Mel—Narmelie is intelligent, Mother. Of course she understands," Rowena said gently while her mind moved at lightning pace. Magna did everything for a reason, usually one that happened to satisfy her current goals. That's why Rowena had no doubt that her casual mention of Narmelie was not without cause.

Magna's face, innocently cheerful, went bland. "Familial loyalties aside, Rowena Rose, we both know if I thought her even mildly intelligent, I would have said so." Magna sighed in practiced disappointment. "She is not at all what I hoped my daughters would be."

_Uh-oh_. Rowena went on high alert, searching for hidden meanings in her mother's words.

"I do not think that being a princess agrees with her, do you?"

Magna's crimson eyes bored into the identical ones of her daughter. "I think Narmelie is a wonderful princess. Kind, charming—everyone adores her," Rowena said firmly, looking into her mother's eyes bravely.

Truly, her heart was hammering.

"Never an unkind word about anyone. That's my Rowena." Magna patted her cheek, all smiles again. "But even you cannot deny that Narmelie needs a…change of pace. Indefinitely."

Rowena's heart stopped. If Melly had hated Rowena before, her hate would become unspeakable if she was stripped of one of the only things she held dear: her title.

"Unless," Magna said, scooping another spoonful of sugar into her tea, "you concentrate on you duties instead of focusing on those vampires in the mortal realm."

This is what she'd been getting at this entire time. There was no other explanation. Magna knew well of the unspoken rivalry between the sisters: how Narmelie was ever setting her sights on being better than Rowena, and how Rowena was struggling to meld broken fences.

"You're threatening me. With my own sister," Rowena observed dully, pushing her still-full teacup to arms length.

_Yes_. Magna's lips turned up at the corners. "Not threatening. Promising. One must place her kingdom before all else, Rowena-dear. Its time you finally learned that."

Rowena felt the taste in her mouth go sour. "If I agree to…cease my aid in the Cullen situation, then…" She had to swallow. "Narmelie remains a princess."

Magna beamed. "Precisely, my dear. You see, I told you you were the intelligent one."

Rowena closed her eyes and nodded, feeling her conscience battling two wars. She had promised to be of service to the Cullens, who had committed no wrong. Now, she was being forced to go back on that promise to salvage the happiness of a sister who hated her. And Magna knew well exactly what she was doing to her eldest daughter. Molding her, shaping her to become a replica of herself.

Magna's teacup fell with a crash. Rowena barely opened her eyes to see its owner fall out of the high backed chair as well, spasming violently on the floor.

"Mother!" Rowena whispered hoarsely, fighting to hold down her mother's limbs. Magna's eyes were a stark white and her lips were on their way to being blue. "Help! Someone help!"


	11. Chapter 10

**A/N: Hey everyone! I know, I know: you're all thinking, "The crazy redhead finally updated?" But, I did have 6 AP classes-worth of studying to do, y'know. Now, as we approach the end of the first quarter, the workload is getting easier. I actually wanted to update Labor Day, but I'd forgotten I needed to do notecards for AP Economics (gag me with a spoon) and my teacher was going to pull a Jack Nicholson on me if I didn't get them done.**

**sigh Long story short, I'm back! This chapter could have been longer, but this is sort of the point where the next junction of our story is. The next few chapters (I'll have to check) will be...drumroll COMPLETELY zoned in on Edward and Bella in the big, scary mansion in the woods.**

**Lol, thanks to everyone who reviewed. I checked my email today for the first time in like a month and I had 129 emails. I read them all, and all your reviews are appreciated. Anyway, I'll let you get to reading. Read, enjoy, and review!**

* * *

_For Anna Mei. Love, your spastic pal in Florida._

"Poison?" Narmelie echoed in disbelief. "She was poisoned?" Her wide violet eyes were blazing in a typical Narmelie reaction: anger.

Luella—a thin, willowy woman who had been Magna's physician since the queen was a child—nodded gravely. Her hair was the dramatic white of age, but her face was youthful and unlined. She uncorked a vial, sniffed it, and with a shake of her head set it back in her bag. "I am afraid so, Princess Narmelie. Most likely in her tea."

Narmelie whirled on her sister. Rowena sat on a grey sofa in the corner, her pale fingers interlaced with Maylee's, quite obviously seeking comfort. "You! You were the one with her! The only suspect!"

_Some things never change. _Maylee frowned at her. "Melly, can you hear what you are saying? Your _sister_, Melly."

"No. She's right," Rowena said quietly. With these words, Rowena seemed to sink a bit more into the cushions of the chair. "I was with her. I poured her the tea. It is my fault." Within a few seconds, Rowena's head fell onto Maylee's shoulder.

She was just _exhausted_. The entire night had been spent pouring potions down Magna's throat. The seizures had stopped, but not before Magna had fallen into a coma ("It's a type of mortal affliction," Luella explained, "where the system closes on itself to heal. It can last anywhere from a few hours to…several years.") The eyes and their red irises were back and her color was once again normal, though it was disconcerting to have Magna staring at the ceiling when she wasn't there to see anything.

There weren't many things that could harm goddesses. But certain plants and poisons concocted in the heavenly realm were fatal.

"Enough, now, Row. Melly, Rowena would _never_ do anything to harm anyone." She didn't miss Narmelie's pointed look, however, at Rowena. It was obvious she wasn't convinced.

Luella unstopped a long thin tube of a particularly vile smelling concoction. She tilted Magna's head and had her swallow the green liquid. "No, this poison would have to have been brewed in the tea. It is not something Ro—anyone," she amended hastily at the look on Maylee's face, "could have slipped into her drink."

"Who brewed the tea, then?" Narmelie demanded.

Rowena shook her head. "It was there when she called for me. I assume it was someone in the kitchens."

"Did she comment about the taste of the tea being awkward or different?"

A wry smile crept onto Rowena's face. "Hibiscus tea is _always_ awkward. But Mother never said anything to me about it."

Clasping her medicine bag, Luella stood. "I do not think she is in any pain, but I have given her something for it anyway." She fished a purple vial out of her apron and handed it to Rowena. "Give this to her in about an hour. Just small sips, mind you."

"Will she eat anything?" asked Rowena tremulously.

"Not at the moment, Princess Rowena," Luella said. "I am sorry I cannot be of more help."

Rowena rose, acting braver than she felt. She wrapped her arms gratefully around Luella. "You have done more than I could have expected, Lu. Thank you."

Luella smiled a tiny smile. "You are welcome, Your Highness. Although—"

She trailed off, uncertainly.

"Please, speak freely, Lu. You know we do not require such formalities when it is just us."

No, but Magna did, and Luella had no doubt that the woman would manage to hear every word, even while she was in a coma…

"What I cannot understand," she began carefully, "is why anyone would try to hurt Queen Magna when she announced just recently that she is stepping down. I would think that any assassination attempts would be aimed at Rowena, rather."

Rowena's face was grim. "It may have been intended for both of us. I did not drink any of the tea, though."

Suspicion instantly bloomed on Narmelie's face. "Why not?" She was almost stricken by the haunted look in Rowena's eyes when she answered.

"I do not very well like hibiscus tea, Melly. Mother adores it."

There was a deeper meaning in the words, but Narmelie refused to acknowledge it. "Thank you, Luella. You probably saved her life."

Luella curtsied slowly and left the room.

Narmelie grasped her mother's hand. "I do not know who did this to you, Mother, but they will pay. I swear it."

Rowena felt tears roll down her cheek. Narmelie was so blissfully unaware of Magna's indifference to her. She could not possibly know what Rowena had sacrificed to keep her happy in the palace as a princess if she could be happy no where else. Rowena hadn't the heart to tell her.

"There, there, now, Puss," Maylee cooed, stroking Rowena's hair. "Magna's a tough old goat." She flicked a glance toward the sleeping woman, as though to make sure her cheeky words had not awoken the queen. "It will take more than poison to do her in."

"We will question everyone in the kitchens, Melly." Rowena rose and offered her hand to her sister. Narmelie stood and, ignoring it, nodded curtly and made her exit through the same door Luella had.

"You can't teach an old dog new tricks, Row-boat," Maylee said at the hurt expression on Rowena's face.

"It was worth a try, Maylee." Kissing the older woman's cheek, Rowena left as well.

Maylee aimed a calculating look at Magna's still, unseeing form, before leaving the room behind the two princesses.

* * *

"Honestly, I was banking on you to stay put. I cannot tell you how infuriating it is when Edward is right." 

It hurt.

Probably a lot less than an unfortunate tumble down the stairs, but Bella could not deny that the arms clutching her to safety were more than likely bruising her internal organs. And it was awkward being held at a forty-five degree angle to the floor. Not to mention the fact that this person did not seem to be in any hurry to move her.

"Easy now," the voice said soothingly. "I am just going to pull you back gently. Do not panic."

Slowly, Bella felt herself being tugged into a standing position, though the arms still remained around her waist.

"How can he possibly know _everything_?" the person sighed in exasperation.

Bella almost wept with relief when she felt a gust of air reach her lungs. The darkness was stifling, though, and the fact that her rescuer was virtually invisible at the moment was not helping things.

The voice was deep and masculine, although she wasn't as frightened of it. _Nothing could be more alarming than Edward, surely, _her mind reasoned.

She didn't feel herself being pulled into a nearby door until the door shut.

When the moonlight fell on the man, her heart thumped once hard in her chest.

He was a bear. He had to be. Her previous fit of hysteria had prevented her from noticing his true size before. Those forearms, the size of her waist, at least. No small wonder her sides were throbbing.

He must have caught her nervous (no, _terrified) _stare, because he grinned largely. "Disconcerting, is it not?"

"What _are_ you?" Bella whispered.

"Emmett," the man responded simply. "Male, tall. Please stop me when you hear your answer."

To Bella's great shock, she found herself smiling. "I think we both know you didn't answer my question, Mr. Emmett." The room, unlike any other she had been in was stuffed with instruments she had never before seen. There was a shelf, crammed tightly with boxes leaking their contents and a pile of wooden blocks in the far corner taller than she.

Although Bella had a feeling this Emmett person was older than Edward, he was far livelier. His demeanor was almost cheerful and Bella felt herself relax a bit.

Until he pulled a knife from his trousers.

She didn't even realize she had begun to back away until Emmett drawled, "I promise, if I were to kill you, I would not resort to something as mundane as a _knife_." Instead, he calmly stooped low to grasp a piece of wood from the pile, before shaving a thin strip from it with his knife.

"I do not understand you," Bella gasped, willing her heart rate to slow and even out her breathing.

"I get that a lot," Emmett said, rocking back on his heels. In a movement Bella almost didn't catch, he folded himself neatly and sat on the floor. "You can sit, too, if you'd like." He looked almost frustrated as he said, "We never did get around to putting furniture in here."

A madhouse! It was a madhouse! Full of tall, beautiful blondes and brunette's and…

Bella's mind trailed off, trying to find a shade of red and brown that accurately depicted Edward's hair.

But each and every one of them had to be insane. If they weren't inches from killing her with that feral, furious look in their eye, they were dragging her into basements and imprisoning her, or starving and abandoning her.

It was fascinating. It was infuriating. It was…

Emmett whistled lightly as hand moved slowly, carefully with the knife. The tune was punctuated with a variety of notes Bella could have never in her life constructed. It reminded her almost of the haunting melody of the calliope music at a carnival Charlie had taken her to when she was younger. Painstakingly, Emmett shaped the delicate wood he held in his palm. When he had chipped away a small section, he set it aside. "Would you like to play with the paddleball?"

It was a question Bella would have expected from a young child. "Paddleball?" she asked uneasily.

"Do not tell me you have never heard of it," Emmett said. At her blank look, he added, "Jasper always challenges me. Of course, he never wins."

He leapt up and was seated again in the second it took Bella to blink in astonishment. "This," Emmett declared, holding a piece of wood shaped a bit like a large pear and its accompaniment, a rubber band attached to a ball, "is a paddleball."

Emmett reached out and wrapped Bella's stiff fingers around what was apparently the handle. "Now, the objective is to try and get the ball to bounce on the paddle as many times as you can."

Bella looked up at him. Was he in earnest? Did he seriously expect her to partake in a children's game with him? There was something in his face she couldn't put into words that made her want to make him happy.

Feeling silly, she gave her wrist a jerk.

The ball went sailing into the air. Tethered by the band, it reached its limit and crashed onto the paddle…

…Thereafter it hit Bella square in the face.

"Oh!" she exclaimed, dropping the paddle and clutching her nose.

Emmett bit his lip, barely restraining a broad grin. "I…well…that has never…happened to me before." He guffawed loudly, bending to pick up the paddle. When he glanced back up at Bella who had gone cherry red, he laughed again.

"I did not know it was possible to turn that color!" Eagerly, he passed her the paddle. "Try again?"

Bella shook her head, more embarrassed than ever. "No, thank you. I think I shall…watch, instead."

Emmett looked disappointed. "Are you sure? Don't be shy; you did manage to hit it once." At her vehement no, he grasped the paddleball strongly and began to count.

"One, two, three, four…"

Bella lost count somewhere around ninety. Emmett had obviously spent a great deal of time perfecting his skill with the paddleball.

"Two hundred twenty-seven…"

A maelstrom was buzzing in Bella's head. Here was Emmett: strong, deviously handsome, large enough to conceivably destroy anything. And yet he was playing with a…paddleball?

Then, as the ball wilted sullenly to the side of the paddle as Emmett missed, he frowned and said, "Esme will have my head. I'm being rude, aren't I?"

Setting the paddleball haphazardly to the side, he tugged down a slim square piece of wood and a bag of something that clacked together merrily.

"Chess?" Emmett offered. "I think it might be nice to play with someone who cannot read my mind—"

Realizing he had said something he shouldn't have, Emmett amended quickly, "Not in the literal sense, you understand."

Bella nodded dazedly. Why was it that the entire time she was here, these people—exceptionally beautiful, made of what seemed as sturdy as marble, and possibly (probably) capable of snapping her arm off with a single finger…

…Why, it seemed they were more frightened of her that she was of them.

"You _do_ know how to play, yes?" Emmett queried worriedly.

"You aren't going to explain it to me either, are you?" Bella said, smiling slightly.

Emmett, sensing her resignation, decided against playing stupid. "I…can't. But I wish I could."

Bella smiled more fully. "I like you, Mr. Emmett. For right now, I suppose that's good enough." Selecting a black piece shaped like a tiny castle, she asked, "This is the crook?"

"Rook," Emmett correcting, grinning. "Now, are you sure you wouldn't like to play with the paddleball again?" At Bella's dark look, he chuckled, placing the pieces on the board. "Never mind."

* * *

"Charlie!" Ruby gasped, just barely keeping her hold on the pie dish. 

"Ruby! Oh, I am sorry I startled you. I was on my way out."

_He doesn't _look_ ill_, Ruby mused. Why, then, had Billy made it sound as though the chief's dying wish had been a slice of pie? "Are you alright, Chief?" she asked anyway.

Though his shirtsleeves covered the white bandages, Charlie shuddered at the thought of them. "I have certainly been better, Ruby. Was there something you needed?"

"Oh!" Ruby held out the pie dish. "For you."

"Oh, erm…thank you?" Charlie said confusedly.

"I heard that Bella has gone missing," Ruby said solemly, bowing her head a bit. "Everyone in town is talking about it."

Missing? Charlie heard a strange roaring in his ears. Missing. _Missing?_ Had he not already explained to Billy what had happened? What had been done to Bella was not a trivial matter! She had not wandered off. She was being held against her will!

"Charlie…?"

"Bella is…" He choked on the words. "She's being held by someone."

Speculation entered the gray in Ruby's eyes. "But why would…?"

"I do not know!" Charlie screamed, leaning heavily against a post on the porch. "Don't you think I've been driving myself to the brink of insanity wondering?"

"You have to tell someone, Charlie," Ruby whispered. "We will send the rest of the police—"

"I _am _the rest of the police force! Who will believe that I was chased by a pack of monster wolves, held in a basement of so sort, bound and gagged by incredibly beautiful people who could twine steel around a tree?"

Breathing hard and red faced, the chief sat on the aged wood. "I'm not even sure if _I _believe me."

Ruby stayed silent, piecing it together in her head.

First Charlie leaves for the fair.

Then Bella falls from a head wound within their compound.

Next Charlie's horse is found in front of Bella's home, minus the police chief.

Bella takes off to look for him on this same horse.

…But Charlie's _here_?

"Chief Swan, is your horse in the stable?" Ruby asked, eyes bright.

Charlie glanced up tiredly. "Why in God's name does that matter now?"

Ruby didn't spare another word before she ran around the side of the house to the barn. Hitching up her skirts to what would be an indecent altitude, she skidded to a stop in front of the small section of the barn reserved for the Swans' two horses.

Phil whinnied tiredly. Ruby held out a hand for him to sniff.

So the chief's horse had found its way home yet again. Now the question remained: where was Bella?

When she came around the house once more, Charlie was in his best suit (or rather his _only_ suit).

"Chief," Ruby questioned warily. "Where are you going?"

"To Michael Newton's estate," Charlie said, his voice almost monotonous. If everyone else had deserted him, perhaps the man who wanted his daughter would be of some help.

* * *

"What did Mother want to discuss with you, Rowena?" 

That information, Rowena knew, must remain her secret until her dying day. "Why?"

Narmelie halted in the hall, successfully stopping the sisters' progress to the kitchens. "It may be a clue as to what happened to her."

"Trust me," Rowena replied rubbing at the bridge of her nose, "it was…just silly."

"Silly?" Narmelie turned fully around. Rowena cursed herself fluently in her mind, biting her lip with the effort it took not to spill out the entire story. "Silly? Mother is not a schoolgirl, Rowena. Whatever it is she wished to speak with you about had meaning."

"Let us go to the kitchens, Melly. The sooner we find out who did this, the quicker they can be punished."

"You liar. You do not want me to know, is that it? Is it because now wonderful Rowena is to be queen and I am not privy to her royal secrets?" Narmelie fumed, stepping in front of Rowena when she would have moved around her.

"Just once, Narmelie, please trust that whatever Mother and I discussed should never concern you. It is my burden to bear."

"You see? You cannot even appreciate what you have been given, Rowena!" Narmelie seethed, her hands flying to her own hair. "Burden, task…what you have is a privilege!"

"How would you know?" Rowena shouted back, losing her temper. "When has Mother ever made her plans known to you?"

The hallway was silent.

Narmelie turned her face away. "I hate you," she whispered, her voice almost inaudible. She brushed lightly past her elder sister, continuing the opposite way down the hall. That small touch made Rowena's skin run cold.

Rowena slumped against the wall, her legs too weak to hold her up as she wept bitterly.


	12. Chapter 11

**A/N: Hey guys! This chapter's been a long time coming. It's actually half of the intended chapter and after much editting, it's ready! I owe you all for being so patient with me. Thanks bunches to everyone who's stuck it out. Before you start reading though, I have a few questions to answer. You guys leave your questions in reviews, but I've been so busy lately, I haven't had the time to answer them all. So, I present to you, a tell-all (well, as much as I can without giving anything away) FAQ!**

**1. When and where exactly does this story take place?**

Hmm, I'm thinking mid 1700s-early 1800s. The place really has no historical context since at this time period folks in the U.S. were either fighting for independence or celebrating it. It's in Forks despite the fact that Forks may not have ever existed yet. Eh, you do what you can.

**2. What's the deal with Narmelie and Rowena?**

Okay. They're goddesses. And for anyone out there who cares, I'm not pagan, it just sort of helps the story line. Magna, their mother, is queen of the goddesses and Rowena, as the older sister is next in line. However, Magna's played favorites with the girls since they were infants and Maylee's (their 'nurse' kinda) had to step in countless times to stop any fights that happen between them. Magna gave Narmelie the gift of living creatures some time ago. Of course, Magna couldn't care less what happens in the mortal realm because she has to train Rowena. Narmelie, thinking this was a gift of love, guards it like a hawk. She loves living creatures, and therefore hates beings like the Cullens. And she's not too fond of humans either. She thinks Rowena trying to reverse the spell is just another sign of her sister "taking over" so she's doing everything in her power to stop the Cullens from breaking the spell. _She _caused the dream about Millie and Anna being sucked dry to make Bella fear the Cullens before she'd even met them. _She _was the voice in Bella's head on the way to the mansion. You've got to realize, this thing is bigger than the Cullens now: it's Narmelie vs. the ever-perfect Rowena, as it has been for centuries. I really feel sorry for Narmelie, truly, as many of you do. Meanwhile, Rowena realizes that the Cullen's situation is far from fair. _She _caused the bright light that saved Charlie from the Quileute wolves. _She _was the "angel" Charlie saw when he thought he was dying. _She _put the snake on the path that would lead Bella in the wrong direction. She loves her sister dearly, as demonstrated in the way she promises her mother to back off as long as Narmelie remains princess. Rowena's sort of between a rock and a hard place. You guys'll have to stay tuned to see how it all works out.

**3. What does the spell entail?**

Yeah, a lot of you have asked me this. The whole, "But how can they feed, Ellie?" Well, Narmelie wanted them to suffer. She gives them an unending supply of chicken's blood (bleh, can you imagine the Cullens feeding off chickens?) so they don't keel over, because then what would be the point of the spell? The Cullens _cannot_ leave the house until the spell is broken. That's why the doors don't open…from the inside anyway. (Tee-hee, they opened for Bella and Charlie, didn't they?). The spell can't be broken unless a human stays with the Cullens _of their own free will_. Notice the reason Edward begged Bella to stay. Charlie was hogtied in the basement; that didn't count. Bella trading herself for him didn't count either. She has to _want_ to stay, understand? Well, she did until Narmelie flipped the script, so to speak. Now, Bella and Edward have to find love within each other. Hee-hee, we'll see how well that goes…

**4. So is this just a version of Disney's "Beauty and the Beast?"**

When have you guys ever known me to stick to the conventional plot? No way, dudes. If you think we've got the humdrum, predictable "Disney stuff" coming, I'm about to knock your socks off.

**Read, enjoy, and review!**

* * *

_For a sweet little music note named Anna Mei. Much love from Ellie._

**Chapter Eleven**

"Have a care, Edward," Emmett whispered, frowning into the darkness. "She sleeps."

Edward's foot paused in midair, his whole body tensing. His eyes fell on a shape draped warmly in a thick blanket in a corner of the dark room.

_Bella._

Isabella Swan was a beacon of heat in a dark cave. He could feel her warmth, even from such a distance as this, and reveled in it. The white quilt rose and fell rhythmically, a gentle whistling sounding from beneath it.

"I doubt she can hear you, but I do suspect this is the first rest she's gotten in some time," Emmett continued, watching the awe-struck expression on his brother's face carefully.

"Yes," Edward whispered. "I wish it wasn't so."

Emmett scowled. "_You_ wish?"

Bracing himself for a fight, Edward turned stiffly. Emmett's hands were clenched into fists the size of small hams. He looked oddly out of place amongst the games slipping off of hand-carved shelves. "Contrary to popular belief, I don't take any pleasure out of doing this," Edward growled.

"Could have fooled me," Emmett muttered.

Both men froze as Bella sighed and rolled over in her sleep.

When all was silent once more, Emmett ventured, "She asked me to tell her why she was here, Edward."

Though his thoughts and temper raced frantically, Edward's tone was civil as he spoke. "What did you tell her?"

"What could I?" Emmett burst out in a whoosh of breath. "When she probably knows more than I do?"

Edward shut his eyes, hoping that when he opened them again, this entire situation would have evaporated.

"_Hungry._"

The word was so soft, both brothers stared at each other, silently asking, "Did you…?"

"No paddle. _Hungry_."

Emmett's eyes darted to the slumbering human form.

"Mr. Emmett," she murmured. Edward couldn't name the violent surge of emotion that swelled within him as this girl whispered his brother's name.

Just what had Emmett been with her for anyway? Edward had known the girl would try to escape, extremely bothered by the fact that he didn't want—no _couldn't let_ her go. Hadn't he already leapt from his bedroom the second her door had clicked?

Then Emmett had saved her from a roll down the stairs. Even without knowing every word that had been spoken (after shamelessly eavesdropping through the door to Emmett's game room…), he knew Emmett and the human had inexplicably become…friends.

_Do humans talk in their sleep? Fascinating. _Bewildered, Emmett answered, "Yes, Miss Swan?"

But Bella didn't seem to be hearing him, or perhaps just wasn't listening. She moaned slightly, tossing the quilt with surprising strength. "Charlie? Papa?" As Emmett took a hesitant step toward her, Edward's furious eyes held him back.

"Miss you so much," Bella whispered brokenly.

No wonder Bella so liked Emmett, Edward argued bitterly. _He_ most certainly hadn't ripped her from her father, had he? Abject self-hatred lurked in Edward's eyes.

Bella's next words swiped his mind of any rational thought.

"Edward."

It was soft, so soft that Edward could have very well doubted his sanity. Her tone was timid, and both men felt like they were listening to a private conversation.

"Edward," Bella said again, more firmly this time.

Clearing his throat which had closed like a vice at her words, Edward replied, "Yes, Miss Swan?"

Bella whined. She rolled over again. Fidgeting with the pillow, she finally said, "Don't go. Don't go, Edward."

Edward no longer had any control of his actions. He would not recall the tenderness that entered his ocher eyes, but Emmett—observing quietly—would.

Edward crouched to the floor, dirtying the knees of his trousers with the dust that so heavily caked the floors. A pale, trembling hand touched Bella's hair gently.

"Edward?" she questioned.

Not trusting himself to speak, Edward could only whisper, "I'm here."

Bella sighed in contentment, only murmuring a final word: "Stay."

* * *

A sweet scent beckoned Bella from sleep. It swirled contentedly around the room, settling comfortably with her and for reasons she couldn't decide, it reminded her of Edward.

Still drowsy with sleep, Bella rolled over, happy to just rest until she felt like awakening.

It was the shouting that fully aroused her, however, and jolted her into cognizance of exactly where she was. Jumping up, she pressed herself against the wall from whence the noise seemed to be coming.

"Leave it alone, Rose." The tired, pleading voice had to be Edward's.

"I will not! Everyone else seems to have stepped aside for you to have your way, but do you not see what you have done?" Unconsciously, Bella's hand wandered to rub at her throat. She recognized that tone, one of supreme beauty with a violent temper simmering just below the surface.

"She chose—"

"What choice was ever made, Edward, but the insufferably stupid one you made not to tell a single soul what was happening?" Rosalie's voice turned mocking. "You gave her a choice. Honestly. If I were to hold Alice captive, slowly killing her, would you even hesitate to take her place if only she would be safe?"

They were speaking—screaming—about her. Bella knew it well. Why didn't everyone just let her leave and resume their lives? Strange as it seemed, she didn't want to cause any pain to these people. She only wanted to go home.

"It's different," Edward ground out.

"It's the same," Rosalie said.

"She _has_ to stay, Rosalie. She has agreed."

"Did you tell her how long?" Rosalie was quiet for a brief second as she seemed to grasp a tighter hold of her anger. "Yes, Eddie, how long? One week, two? A month, perhaps? You claim to be doing this for us. Did it ever occur to you that it may be difficult for _us_ to have her here? What about her? What will you do with her for those 6 months you plan to detain her? Throw her in the basement like you did her father?"

"Enough."

It was a new voice, one Bella hadn't heard before. It sounded slightly older than Edward and Rosalie's, calm and low.

"Rosalie, may I speak with Edward?"

It was not a question, really, but Rosalie answered, "Whatever you like, Jasper. I'm finished here."

Jasper waited for the door to click before saying quietly, "You realize that Isabella Swan heard every word you two were shouting at one another. She'd standing just there, listening."

How…how could he possibly know that? Bella slunk back to the center of the room. From here, the hushed voices were just barely intelligible, though she strained to hear them better.

"Be fair, Edward. If you will not, cannot explain whatever it is that is happening…at least tell the one who suffers for our sake."

Bella smiled a bit. She liked this new character. There was a long period of silence during which she was sure Edward had left the room.

Then: "She will think me a monster."

Jasper wisely hid his smile. "Pray tell, Edward, why does it even matter what she thinks? She's just a human."

There was a sound of rage and the crack of something falling.

Edward dove at Jasper, unsure exactly of why his words triggered something violent in him. The pair grappled, taking turns in dominating the scrap. Jasper merely pressed and poked at Edward's weak areas, smiling fully now as he saw the frustration in Edward's eyes. Edward swung and connected his fist satisfactorily against Jasper's jaw. Jasper broke free and retreated to the opposite side of the room. Clutching his shin, Edward hobbled after his brother, still ready to fight.

Jasper tested his jaw, not at all miffed at the outcome of his words. "It seems you're a bit out of practice, little brother."

Edward's retort sent Bella's cheeks flaming.

"Again," he bit off.

"No, thank you," Jasper said laughingly holding up his palms for peace. "I would rather escape with my face intact, if you don't mind."

Rosalie poked her head in the door. "What in the...I should have known," she mumbled rolling her eyes heavenward. "You leave two men in a room for more than three minutes and someone gets hurt." Without saying anything more to them, she strolled off, her shoes clicking rhythmically.

Bella was both surprised and alarmed at the giggle that pealed out before she could clap a hand over her mouth.

Jasper and Edward were silent, instinctually still running hands over their no-longer-aching battle scars.

"The human is amused," Jasper whispered. He was pressing his luck, he knew, but anger was so much better than that melancholy gloom that had radiated from Edward. "And you...you are confused." It was a statement, so casually said that Edward could find no way to contest it. "You know not the answer to my earlier question. And it annoys you to hell and back again," Jasper finished with a roughish grin.

He sobered. "Though it pains me to say it, Edward, Rosalie is correct. The human girl deserves to know."

Edward snorted. "You only say so because the moment I deign to say a single word to her, the entire household will be pressing their ears against the door."

Jasper shrugged. "Perhaps."

Feeling most of the tension melt away, Edward slid to the floor. Jasper mirrored his moves. "Can you smell her?" Edward questioned.

"Most certainly," Jasper responded. "And sometimes I believe I am the one who knows the most about her."

The green monster's shadow fell over Edward. What in God's name was Jasper speaking of? Had both of his brothers been making friends with the girl?

His brain led the envious thoughts to a screeching halt. _Get a hold of yourself. What are you thinking to accuse your siblings of? What do you wish to accuse your two _married_ siblings of?_

Satisfied that all jealous thoughts had subsided, Edward said calmly, "And by that you mean…?"

_Oh, Edward. _Snickering internally, Jasper maintained his cool manner. "Only that every emotion she has felt upon arriving here…I've known it." He paused in thought. "Though for a period of time I was beside myself with thirst, I could still feel what she felt. Confusion, fury, fear, sympathy, annoyance, longing, and something I can only suppose must be hunger…"

"And now?"

Jasper stood, brushing off the dust that coated his trouser. "That, dear Edward, would be telling." He skirted around his brother, giddy at the look of vexation and shock that crossed Edward's face.

Alice awaited him on the other side.

"Sometimes, Jasper," she said wrapping her arms around his waist, "I completely adore you."

* * *

As if it wasn't enough being tortured by a mere human, his family had to ensure his total reversion to madness. Grumbling mentally, Edward crossed to the room where Bella was being held.

His thoughts drifted back to what had happened in her sleep. She had called out his name, reached for him, and the way she had done so made Edward want to relive it a thousand times more. What he would say to her, he wasn't sure. What he was going to do with her, he wasn't sure. All he was completely certain of was that glimpsing that innocent face would settle the tumult he felt in his system.

It was the 'why' of the situation that made him wary. No, not wary, completely stupefied and scared.

The door creaked and Edward winced. His predatory instincts demanded silence as he came upon anything that had the potential to run. Rolling his eyes, he pushed it open fully. The sun was streaming through the slats of open space in the window. That wonderfully sweet and flowery scent embraced him and he closed his eyes momentarily. When he opened them…

Empty. The room was empty. And Isabella Swan was gone.

Gone.

Anguish mounted in his chest. His legs failed him. His mind couldn't comprehend exactly what had happened.

She had simply disappeared. Reining in all thoughts of searching the room for her, he bellowed the one name he knew had to be involved somehow in this.

"ROSALIE!"

"No need to shout, Edward," Rosalie said sauntering into the room. She glanced about her and not seeing what she searched for, turned in a complete circle. "Oh. So where's our favorite new pet?"

Edward's eyes turned black. "As if you don't know, Rosalie. What did you do to her?"

Rosalie appeared sincerely shocked. "I…shouldn't _you _know?"

"Would I be asking if I did?" Edward advanced a step, ignoring the screaming in his head that sounded very much like his mother not to ever raise his voice at a woman. "What have you done with her?"

"Nothing." Rosalie maintained, retreating several steps at the feral glaze in Edward's eyes. "Edward, I swear to you, I haven't touched her."

"You lie!"

_What is wrong with him? I've never seen him look this way!_ All of Rosalie's thoughts shouted the same he'd just heard from her.

And yet… "She could not have found her way out on her own, Rosalie. I'm giving you one last chance to tell me the truth."

As Edward's chest heaved and his nostrils flared, Rosalie chose not to respond. It would be futile, she knew, to even attempt "the truth" when Edward had dived headfirst into territory that frightened her to no end. Gathering her skirts, she turned and fled from the room.

Blank surprise came over Edward before he followed suit.

For the first time, Rosalie cursed the person who had ever invented dresses. She paused just briefly to slip out of her shoes, her stocking feet leaving tiny prints in the dust of the hallway.

"Emmett! Emmett!" Her voice bounced up and down the hallway. Rosalie's husband came out of their bedroom, carrying a wine bottle.

"Rose…?" When Rosalie ducked behind him, he came face to face with a livid Edward. "Hang on, hang on!" he shouted, batting Edward's hands away when they attempted to reach around him. It was Rosalie's trembling as she unashamedly hid that frightened him rather than that look on Edward's face.

Connecting the few puzzle pieces he had, Emmett scowled."You have two seconds to explain, Eddie," he said flatly.

But Edward was beyond comprehensive speech. He growled loudly, turning away before he could see Emmett try to console his wife, and leaped down the staircase. Esme sat on the chaise sewing. When Edward thudded down to the first floor she looked up in alarm. "Edward, what…?"

"Have you seen her?" he interrupted, his eyes darting around as if Bella might be hiding somewhere in the darkness.

"Seen who, dear?" Esme asked keeping her head down lest he see her smile.

"Bel—Miss Swan. Have you seen Miss Swan?" Edward said forcing himself to be civil.

"I…I…Well, she came downstairs and asked me if she might have something to eat…" Esme said feigning uncertainty.

Edward shut his eyes. "So where is she _now_, Esme?"

"Well, we don't have any food here that she would enjoy, so I told her so."

"_And?_"

Esme pulled a new color through the needle, thinking. "I believe she said that you had told her something to that effect." She paused to inspect the stitches in the failing light. "And then she asked something about finding food elsewhere…"

"Esme, _where_?"

Esme regarded him silently, wondering if he was aware of the utter devotion pooled in his eyes. She kept her thoughts trained on her cross-stitching and when she responded, it was in a practiced innocuous tone:

"Oh, outside, dear! Where else?"

* * *

The moment she stepped outdoors, Bella spread her arms out wide and smiled into the sunlight.

How wonderful it felt to be out of that gloom! Whirling back, she saw the mansion, so frightening in the darkness and yet so ridiculous looking in the light.

She wondered how she had ever been scared of it. It honestly wasn't quite so bad. _Easy to say once you're out of there, _Bella thought teasing herself.

The other woman had been plucking stitches from a cloth when she ventured down the stairs. Her caramel hair caught the tiny specks of sun and made her look almost ethereal. Although it wasn't in the same way that anyone else appeared, Bella mused frowning...

"**Hello. We have yet to be properly introduced. I am Esme."**

**Bella felt so out of place next to this quiet, serene dignity. She should just retreat up the stairs from where she had come. Had Edward not specifically asked her to remain in that room? But the hunger ate at her from the inside out and she could no longer stay silent about it.**

"**Bella Swan," she replied curtsying. "I…I do not intend to be rude, but might you have something I could eat?" Esme looked up to stare at her with those warm but unreadable eyes. "Oh, I mean, I…I think I shall just go back upstairs. Yes, um, thank you."**

**Esme smiled. "You have not offended me, Bella. But I am afraid that we lack the sort of food you are accustomed to."**

**Bella frowned. "Mr…Edward said the same thing." She sighed, feeling anxious. "It's just…I would not even trouble you with it if I wasn't…"**

"**Starving?" Esme supplied helpfully. **

**Bella blushed. "Well, yes."**

**Esme thought. Here was this lovely, polite beautiful human, asking her for food. It made her heart ache in the matronly way she felt when she looked at the rest of her children. **

"**Ms. Esme…"**

"**Just Esme, dear."**

"**Yes…Esme, could you…I mean, would you mind terribly if I just…" Oh, this was ridiculous! Bella fought with the supreme waves of wanting to be liked by this woman. "Would you mind if I searched outside for something to eat?" she finished in a rush, trying to get all the words out before she lost her nerve.**

**Esme beamed. "I was wondering if you would ask. Yes, you may, Bella. Just turn right at this hallway here and push on the doors."**

**Dumbstruck, Bella stared at her. Esme simply went back to her sewing. How long would it be until her son came trailing after her, she asked mentally. She heard the big doors open and Bella's first hesitant steps. And she smiled wider than she had in quite some time.**

Overgrown as the front lawn may be, several animals scampered unabashedly throughout it. _So there must be something edible here, _Bella thought gleefully.

She and Charlie had always been a bit pathetic at the harvest part of the planting season, but she wasn't_ completely_ oblivious.

There was a patch of berries just behind some bushes. They at least _looked_ tasty. Bella's stomach assented as her brain warily reminded her that at this point, so would a coffee table. She ignored it and pushed aside the bushes, wondering why the berries were so preserved. Why hadn't any other animal gotten to them? Out of the squirrels and raccoons running merrily out here, why was she the only one to notice them?

Shrugging it off as pure luck, she gathered several bunches of berries. They smeared over her nightgown as she carried them, but Bella was beyond caring. All that mattered now was that she had something to _eat._

The thought occurred to her halfway back to the house.

_I could just…go._

Yes! She'd been looking for a way to escape, hadn't she? Hadn't she been dying to just lure these people into thinking she would stay and then break free? She could run home to Charlie and they'd been together once more and never have to think of this house and these people and this place ever again!

But…why hadn't anyone come after her? The woman, Esme, had just…let her go. Should they not be scrambling after her with their superhuman speed? They could probably have her back inside before she had the chance to realize what was happening.

Bella stepped back to survey the house. Edward's face flashed in her front of her eyes. _Charlie is _ill, her mind shouted. _Why aren't you already gone?_

She had made a promise. _Irrationally,_ thought to herself, _I had made it thinking I might be able to get away. And here I am! So I can just _go.

But…she had promised. Bella didn't much like lying or breaking promises if she could help it. She had looked Edward square in the eye and given her assent. As she stood there, clutching the raspberries closer to her, she realized she _couldn't_ leave.

Step by step, she inched back toward the front door, while that voice screamed shrilly in her ears, fighting at her to run while she still had the chance.

Bella ignored it.


	13. Chapter 12

**A/N : Lookie! An update, and a long one at that! Lol, I thank everyone who read the last one, although I'm sorry to admit that I have an all-time low in regards to hits for that last chapter –sigh- which tells me people have lost interest. However, I got bunches of reviews, so thanks for that; it cheered me up. Let's scoot me well past two hundred this time, savvy?**

**Alright, so you've all been wondering where that classic Bella personality went, right ? This chapter was oh so much fun to write. Hee-hee, Edward won't know what to do with himself, you'll see. All I'll say is that this is the chapter you guys have been waiting on. **

**Read, enjoy, and review!**

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_Bonne Année, Anna Mei. __J'espère que 2008 vous apporte sourire et le rire._

_(Happy New Year, Anna Mei. I hope 2008 brings you smiles and laughter.)_

**Chapter Twelve**

Just as quickly as Isabella Swan had come into his half-life, she was absent from it.

Edward sat in that accursed high wingback chair, his eyes seeing nothing, his ears detecting no sounds. He was both blind and deaf to all stimuli around him. He made quite the portrait of the angry master of the house: his bronze hair was more unruly than ever (as he had shoved his hands through it in vexation too many times to count in the past hour) and his eyes were a cold, steely black.

Everyone in this house was against him, it seemed.

Esme had just let Bella Swan stroll out of the house! How could she? _Why_ would she? It killed him that his own mother was longer on his side anymore…and for a wild irrational moment, he hated them all for it.

Edward had tried. Long after Carlisle had returned to Esme's loving arms, still sulking after this thorough searches through his books had failed, Edward had spent countless hours with his nose pressed close to the dusty volumes. Even as his eyes blurred and that constant burn in the back of his throat flared so horribly, he'd remained. He read, and read, and read, thinking that there couldn't be a single fact on Earth that he hadn't somehow uncovered in his research…all except the one thing he actually needed. And now his family had turned on him, all allied for the common cause of making him more miserable and sullen than ever by taking away the one person capable of lifting that gloom.

Then came the shame and disgrace that hovered so closely around him, just waiting for their chance to influence his thoughts. It was his own fault. How could he possibly keep Isabella Swan locked here like a princess in a tower? Had his intentions really, truly been honorable?

Yes, he _wanted_ to say.

But he was afraid the honest answer might be the opposite.

Everyone had been at him to simply explain. Something deep within him knew they could not fault him for what had been done. But amongst the plethora of voices that swirled in his head every day, the one he could not block was that melancholy tone blaming him for everything: himself.

Bella Swan was a bright girl. She had seen an opportunity to escape and had simply taken it.

But God in heaven, _why_ did he feel so betrayed?

A vision stumbled into the room, blood marring the pure white of its gown. It more or less staggered into the door and multitudes of a red sticky substance trailed down its arms. The scent of freesia and something less pungent but very unwelcome floated luxuriously about him.

Edward gazed on in horror as he realized it was Bella.

"Goodness," Bella said as the red fruits spilled from her arms. She stooped to collect them, wishing to have a tub of water to rinse them in. _Dusty raspberries are better than none at all. _Gone from her was the anger at being held captive, although she couldn't quite say what had caused the change of heart. Charlie's illness nagged at her, and she had said several fervent prayers for his wellbeing, but the thing her father prized most in himself and in others was integrity.

Regardless of the irrationality of it, she had maintained hers and returned to the house that both frightened and intrigued her.

Glancing about, she realized that she'd never been in this room. But, hadn't Esme said _third _door on the left? _Idiot,_ she chastised herself. Of all the times to miscount, she had to select this one.

Edward felt his jaw drop. She was here, grumbling about getting lost and gathering what appeared to be…berries of some sort…

Bella looked up, ready to stand, and saw Edward in the armchair looking every bit as surprised to see her as she was to see him.

She screamed.

The berries flew.

Bella grasped her chest as the air whooshed in and out of her lungs.

"Holy crow, what is it with this house and people just popping out of the ground? Can't you make a bit of noise to alert someone that you are present?" she demanded, hands plucking the airborne raspberries from her hair.

It wasn't blood, Edward realized, though the sunlight had certainly made it appear to be. He wouldn't question now why he had immediately shifted to panic, not trying any of his other senses at all before concerning himself about her wellbeing.

She was stunning.

For the first time, he'd seen a part of the true Isabella Swan. Not the all-too-polite girl she'd made herself out to be—or maybe, that was all he had perceived her as. How could she be so furious with him when he felt like falling on bended knee and thanking the gods that she had returned? It bothered him to no end that she was so untouched by his complete fascination.

Even as she raged at him, throwing dark scowls over her shoulder as she scooped up the remaining fruits, Edward felt himself frowning. "No," he said in response.

How could she be so calm? Hadn't she just stepped out of his existence mere moments ago? Edward felt that tug of inexplicable happiness that she had returned, but with it…confusion.

"Where did you go?" he said abruptly ending the silence.

Bella twisted her head to see who he was talking to. Certainly not to her. Not when he'd barely said more than a few half-sentences to her in all the time in this house. "Me?" she squeaked, and was immediately furious with herself for sounding so childish.

"Did I not ask you to stay in the room we provided?" Edward stepped closer, his brow furrowed as he contemplated how on anyone else, that shocked expression would appear comical. On Bella, it was just adorable.

It was Bella's turn to frown. "I do not know that it was asking so much as it was ordering." And if there was one thing Bella hated above all else, it was being told what to do.

This wasn't at all turning out the way he had planned. Edward took a cleansing breath before beginning in what he hoped was a more civil tone, "My apologies, Miss Swan."

"Bella."

"Pardon me?"

She pulled apart sticky fingers with some effort and winced. "I imagine you don't know how tiring it gets to be when one party continually refers to another as if they've never met."

"Perhaps," Edward said, annoyed, "that is merely because the first party was raised in an era in which propriety was still the norm."

"The second party would like to point out that there is a reason why that era has come to pass." She flashed him a victorious smile. "And so, I am merely Bella."

She wasn't merely anything. Edward had to squelch the urge to touch her, just to be sure she wasn't a figment of his imagination.

"Bella, then."

Oh, she was enjoying this. His irritation she very much preferred. It pleased her immensely to know that while he certainly didn't enjoy her company, Edward at least could not pretend indifferent to it. Not when she went out of her way to provoke him.

"To answer your question, I went outside." Bella eyed a raspberry hungrily, but politeness had her glancing up at him first. "Would you care for one?"

Edward grinned. Really, truly grinned, and Bella was struck dumb by the wonder of it. His face came alive with that inner light at her innocence. She was agitated with him, and he with her, and despite her claims of modernization, she had offered him some of her food.

"No, thank you, Miss—Bella."

Well, what in God's name was so funny? Bella frowned. Why did it seem she was being left out of an enormous joke in this house? Because she was, of course, her mind stated blearily. These people, why they were here, why _she _was here, what they were exactly: it was all a game, one in which she knew not the rules.

But she could do her part to even the score a bit. And aggravating Edward was coming to be one of her favorite past-times.

"Why?"

Bella knew he was referring to his earlier question. She was almost certain that he knew she knew what he was asking. But how easy would it be to just…

"I'm sorry?"

"Why did you venture outside?"

"I was hungry."

Edward's eyes flickered down to the raspberries and back up to her face. "You could have simply asked."

"I did."

He knelt down, feeling she might be more agreeable in answering questions if they were at the same level. "Really? I don't recall." There! He'd kept his response open, and if he did say so himself, quite polite if not friendly.

He was good, Bella mused. But she'd learned long ago (with that awful Mike Newton) that sometimes, the best way to annoy someone was to say nothing at all…or close to it, anyway. "Oh."

An exasperated breath whooshed out of Edward's lungs. What did that _mean_? _Keep a level head, Edward_, he coached himself.

"Forgive me, Bella. I have not been on my best behavior since your…arrival." That was the understatement of the century. "But if you could favor me with an explanation of precisely how you came to be here…" He trailed off, leaving it to her to take the initiative to answer the mystery that had nagged at him since he'd first seen her.

He wanted to know _everything_ about her. It was a drug; every tidbit of information he gained about her made him crave another, and then another.

Bella played with the ends of her hair idly. With clammy fingers coated in berry juice, she attempted to brush off the offending dust from a particularly plump raspberry. "I could."

The dark word he muttered in his head was not for female ears. Edward narrowed his eyes in concentration, his golden eyes raging at her bowed head. Even now, even when it was completely silent save her gentle breathing, he could not gain access to her mind.

Bella's chocolate eyes flicked up to Edward. He wasn't so much looking at her as he was looking almost…_through _her"_Mr_. Edward…"

Edward waited. One heartbeat. Two. Three.

"Yes?" he said tersely.

Now was her opportunity. "I could not help but overhear your…conversation with your…friend?" Bella said the word carefully, questioningly, unsure of how all of these magnificent people were actually related. Or if they were related at all.

Edward took a deep breath. "I see."

When she said nothing else, he huffed out the breath quickly. Turning the full blaze of his topaz eyes on her, he continued, "And?"

Bella was speechless. It was like falling. Eons passed and she was enveloped in that heated gaze. "I-I only want to know if…" She paused long enough to have Edward growling again. "If you were ever going to tell me…_why_ I am here."

As his eyes roamed over her face, darting so quickly Bella didn't even see them move, he knew he couldn't. She already thought him a villain, that much his eyes (devoid as they may have been of human contact in nearing half a century) could see. He couldn't bear the thought of her ever turning away her face in disgust, revulsion of the creature before her.

"No, Miss Swan. I did not then, nor do I now expect to explain it to you."

Bella's softness hardened at the words. Lowering her head quickly, she was silent as her mind raced, formulating a plan. Long gone were her thoughts of the raspberries or of the outside world. Her father had always said laughingly that her curiosity could tumble the pillars of Rome. But curiosity couldn't be this desire burning just below her breastbone. It was her driving force. If nothing else, she would discover who these people were, and what exactly they wanted with her.

A deceivingly complacent smile blossomed slowly as her eyes met Edward's.

"Oh, really?"

**

* * *

**

She wouldn't. She _couldn't_ possibly.

Edward eyed the human dubiously, all too annoyed at that smug gleam in her eye. "Be my guest," he said barely clamping down on the irritation he felt at her look.

"Oh no," Bella retorted. She folded herself awkwardly, still remaining on the ground. And said nothing more.

Edward growled. What was it about her that made him second-guess himself constantly? She did it on purpose, he thought accusingly. She _had_ to know how her half-thoughts drove him to the brink of madness. "'Oh no', _what_?"

Bella lowered her head so that her hair covered her face. "It just seems to me…"

He nearly snarled the words: "Could you make out a complete sentence, _please, _Miss?"

The delighted child danced inside of her. "I was saying that after all you have done to keep me alive thus far…you would be a bit upset should something happen to me." Brown eyes met gold. "Am I wrong?"

Damn it, no she wasn't.

Edward whirled away, unable to see her silently gloating in her victory. He need not ever see that beautiful face that haunted him wherever he roamed: her heartbeat was a tad fast and her breath came in short bursts. He could almost imagine the sweet blush coloring her cheeks and—

Good Lord. How had it come to this? When exactly did she figure out that they _needed_ her? Blast it all, hadn't he told her those very words, begging her to stay? And what exactly would she do now that she had this newfound knowledge? How would she lord it over him?

Bella winced internally. She'd pushed too hard. He would be angry now. She could handle the irritation (it was actually a bit amusing, really) but she was powerless before that blazing fury.

"You may believe whatever you desire. Go ahead then, Miss Swan," Edward replied smoothly.

So close. So _close._ Bella gnawed on her lower lip, thinking hard.

She looked up to stare him in the eye when he turned back around. Smiling slightly, she raised her chin.

Edward's fist clenched at his side. _Well played, _his subconscious grudgingly acquiesced.

How long could she keep it up? Not long, not long at all. Not nearly long enough to force Edward's hand, anyway.

The cheeks lost their natural flush. Bella's remarkable pale skin took on a graying tinge. The bruises marring her throat stood out like stark beacons, even more so than before. The edges of her vision began to fade, until all that remained was Edward. Bella fought the dark spots twinkling viciously in front of her. Just a little longer. If she kept her mind off it…maybe…

"Childish antics," Edward muttered under his breath, not aware of the golden pools raking over her trembling form in worry. "If she honestly thinks that such games will change a single thing…"

Bella was now almost completely blind. Her skin had tinted to a bluish hue too much like death for Edward's liking. The cadence of blood pounding in her ears slowed perceptively. A dull roar began in her chest and lungs. Almost…_almost…_

"Alright!" Edward burst out.

Not a second later, Bella inhaled deeply. She stood smartly and curtsied, the light playing against the willowiest of her nightgown. That gleam was once again in her eye as she smiled mockingly at Edward…

…And promptly fainted at his feet.

**

* * *

**

Her head felt so heavy. Bella moaned aloud and pried her eyes lids open.

Edward's eyes, darkened with concern stared back at her. What had she been thinking pulling a stunt like that? And him, his shock had been so total; he hadn't been able to rush to her side until after she'd fallen.

"I see you have embraced this new informality wholeheartedly," she whispered. Edward's unearthly beauty was a scant six inches from her plainness. It unnerved her a great deal. Just as she had closed her eyes, groaning and hoping to be swallowed by the floor, Edward was shaking her shoulder.

"No, Bella. Stay awake. I cannot be sure that you don't have a concussion." Two centuries had been merrily sheared themselves from his lifespan. Almost as though time had stopped, he had seen Bella's eyes roll back and her body fall to the ground.

"Edward, Esme said…"

Carlisle's eyes widened at the scene before him. Edward was crouched dangerously close to the human, who lay on the floor. Her skin was so pale, but her face was obscured by Edward's copper head.

_What have you done?_

Edward whirled around. "Carlisle, I—she—this is not coming out right," he finished lamely. The mortification in his voice assured Carlisle that his fears were unfounded. Edward had not harmed the human—not in the way that was instinctual to his people, in any case.

From his study, Carlisle was virtually shut out from the rest of the house, though he had been able to hear Edward's acquiescent shout and had come to investigate.

His lips quirked at the embarrassment in his son's face. Edward practically jumped away from Bella and pointed accusingly at her still form. "She fainted. She may or may not have a concussion. I was still trying to learn that when you…"

_Interrupted_, Carlisle finished in his head. This was an quite an interesting new development. He had hardly believed it when he caught Esme after she had launched herself into his arms, babbling blithely that Edward was in love.

Schooling his thoughts was old hat, but Carlisle had become adept at it. He ran through medical procedure he had not practiced in years, already assured that Miss Swan was most likely perfectly fine.

"Heart rate?" Carlisle asked aloud for her benefit.

Both men could hear in strongly, pounding louder as both angled their heads her way. "Fine," Edward said.

Carlisle stepped closer and kneeled beside his patient. "Do you feel dizzy, Miss Swan?"

Her head was floating at least a foot away from her shoulders, but she was certain that it probably had very little to do with her self-induced fainting spell and very much to do with the two handsome men staring at her. Edward, most especially.

"A bit," she lied, keeping her eyes on Carlisle despite her flaming cheeks. "I have met you."

Carlisle looked to Edward. True, Isabella Swan had seen him, but it had been under…less than pleasant circumstances. He hoped very much, for Edward's sake, that Miss Swan had long forgotten that incident, though he knew very well that she had not and most likely would never do so. Edward's eyes were pained as he realized the same thing.

"I don't believe we have." Carlisle trained his features into a confused frown. "My name is Carlisle Cullen." The irony of one of her captors introducing himself was not wasted on her. In any one of her books, it would have been incredibly amusing. As it was, it only made Bella more curious.

Bella shut her eyes in frustration. She had met this man, she _knew_ she had. Whatever imagination Bella possessed, it was not so talented as to dream up creatures like the Cullens. And all of a sudden the knowledge overcame her and she could see the scene as if it were happening before her eyes. Carlisle Cullen cajoling Edward into releasing her; Carlisle Cullen and Mr. Emmett pulling her to her room; Carlisle Cullen holding Edward down firmly as he gazed on at her.

"Bel—Miss Swan?" Edward queried worriedly.

She sighed. She would have to be patient. Edward had agreed, that much she could remember, to explain. "I just needed to catch my breath a moment. I am Bella. It's very nice to meet you, Mr. Cullen. "

"Please, just Carlisle." Remarkable that she had simply let the matter drop, Carlisle thought. But Bella's eyes were not placated as she wished them to believe, but waiting rather, for a chance to fully interrogate. "If you feel well, Bella, please sit up for us."

Bella obliged with his help. "Would you mind if I asked what brought this on? Do you normally feel faint?" What an odd question to pose to a girl who had been ripped from her house, her father, and was essentially a hostage in a house of vampires.

"No. You see, Ed—"

"Carlisle, Esme is asking for you." The pair turned to stare at Edward whose face contained that same embarrassment from before.

Carlisle's lips twitched in an effort to conceal a smile. "Really? I did not hear her call." _What is the matter, Edward?_

Edward would not be goaded into revealing his ability before he was ready. "You were busy tending to Miss Swan. Perhaps it just escaped your notice."

_I understand when I'm being given the boot. _Edward's chagrinned look made his concur unreservedly with Esme's opinion. Edward was indeed in love with Isabella Swan.

Carlisle exited, pondering over this new revelation.

"You lied."

Edward watched as Bella struggled to stay upright, her eyes pointing holes in him. "What?"

Bella scowled. Some concealed conversation had occurred between the two and she was sincerely exhausted of being left out of the joke. "Esme did not call for Carlisle, did she?"

The forced of the chocolate-brown eyes compelled him to be truthful. "No."

"It really isn't a great matter. How I came to be unconscious, I mean."

"Of course it is! Suicide attempts are generally frowned upon in your society," Edward said.

Bella scoffed. "It was hardly suicide. Children from the country learn to hold their breath for swimming all the time. I just…went a bit overboard." It was obvious from his dark expression that he thought that to be an underestimation. "In any case, I accomplished what I set out to do."

Edward almost smiled. She was so incredibly skilled at having him cling to her every word. That statement enticed the desired response from him. "Which was?"

"To have you tell me the truth. As to why I have to remain here."

Twin urges to touch her and flee from her welled up inside him. He had agreed to it, as she had said. He wished he could say that she had forced his hand, but somehow, he felt it might be a slice of redemption to have her know it all. Completely.

But the not-so-small fear of rejection swelled up as well. It would have to be her response, he knew, to cringe away from the monster that he was.

And yet…he was helpless to do anything and everything she asked of him.

He was warring with himself, a battle no one should have to fight, Bella thought chewing on her lower lip. "One condition, Edward."

He smiled wanly. "Isn't it up to me to be making conditions, Bella?"

She paused in mock thought. "Not really. Besides, if you do not agree, I can always try holding my breath again."

It wasn't meant as a threat, but Edward was immediately wary anyway. "You have my attention," he replied somewhat reluctantly.

"We'll make it a game of sorts. I'll ask you a question, and in return, you can ask one of me." Bella was sure he would find very little to ask her, but it was the best she could come up with.

"Alright," Edward replied, hiding his delight. "Shall I go first?"

Bella thought it only fair when she was receiving the better end of the bargain. "Go ahead."

"Who are you?"

What a silly question! "You've wasted your first one, Edward. You already know who I am: Bella Swan."

Edward shook his head gravely. "I did not ask your name, Bella. I asked who you are. What makes Bella Swan? How old is she? Where does she live? What does she enjoy, what does she dislike? Who are her friends, her enemies? What does she think of her family, of love, of happiness, of life?"

Bella's brow furrowed. "That's a bit unfair, cramming all of that into one question." When he only smiled innocently, unaware of how her heart melted a little in her chest, she sighed.

"Fine. I am Isabella Swan of Forks. Or," Bella said pausing, "I was until recently."

At his motion, she continued. "I am 17 and I live—_lived_ with my father, Charlie. He, like I do, prefers to be called by his nickname."

"Why?" Edward asked, completely enthralled.

"That would be your second question, Mr. Edward. Now, I love to read, I hate spiders, and the rain. Well, bad weather in general. Um, I have few friends within Forks itself. There is Angela, but she's very quiet and recluse. And Ruby, but she's very busy most of the time."

Edward had to be grateful for her answer, but he couldn't help but feel there were so many gaps in it. It wasn't enough, he fumed.

"There is only one person I really, truly dislike. Michael Newton. I believe in love…to a certain extent, which is precisely why I don't like Mike. I think a person makes their own happiness and unhappiness and that is the meaning of life," Bella finished, satisfied with her answer.

"Fair enough," Edward said grudgingly. "Your turn."

Bella could see the anxious anticipation in his eyes. But her curiosity would be denied no longer. "Who are you, Mr. Edward?"

The words tumbled out of their own accord. And Edward would never forget the expression on her face when they did.

"A vampire."


	14. Chapter 13

**A/N: Happy New Year, everyone! I'm in an exceptional mood. New Year means all of Ellie's fave shows have new seasons coming out: "Psych", "Monk", -muttering- "American Idol"… You get the idea. I'm tangled up in the Model-athon (Cycles 1-9, baby!) on VH1. It's one of those shows you watch when no one's around; right up there with "So You Think You Can Dance" and…"Deal or No Deal" (though my brothers always catch me watching that one since I yell at the TV).**

**Lol, now that we've had our random moment of the day, I just want to let you know that this story in on my list of New Year's Resolutions. Right there in big bold letters, "FINISH EDITS ON BatB!" **

**Thanks LOADS to my beta, Ren better known as Angel Ren, without whom, a lot of this would've made you go, "Huh???" You totally rock, Ren! **

**Everyone who has used our various forms of communication to tell me to get my butt in gear, _bunches of thanks_. I was almost afraid people were tired of this story.Thanks to everyone whose been reading and reviewing ('cause replying to reviews is on the resolutions list, too) to push me past 200 reviews! –happy-dances-- And thanks to everyone that got through this author's note, lol. I love you all! Hope 2008 is splendiferous for all of you.**

**Read, enjoy, and review!**

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"_Love is patient, love is kind…It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always preserves."_

_May love do all these for you and much more, Anna Mei._

_Love, love, love, Ellie_

**Chapter Thirteen**

Fool! He'd been so foolish to believe that this pseudo-companionship would endure his earth-shattering revelation. With the guile and tact of a cinderblock, he'd plowed right through to the heart of the matter. And curse it all, she was being as enigmatic as ever.

Bella glanced up at him, and then quickly back down, startled at the intensity in his eyes.

"Somehow," she whispered, "I do not think you wanted to tell me that."

"Somehow," Edward replied, unspeakable self-rage mounting within him, "I think you were displeased with my answer." The words came out as a growl—a mere rumble in his chest—so low he was surprised Bella could discern them.

He could not even see her face to try and judge how she had taken the news. Did she believe? Did she understand? How could she? Edward had made a broad statement without any semblance of clarification. And the horror that he would have to explain it further to her ripped at his dead heart.

He wanted her happy. It frightened him to his core that there was nothing and no one else that mattered at this exact moment. He blinked, and every time, her face was there behind his eyelids: shy, beautiful, courageous, and fascinating.

Would he ever fully understand the mystery that was Isabella Swan? Something in him delighted somewhat at the intrigue, feeling that with her, there would always be something new to learn.

He had always enjoyed being in control. Edward would not really consider it a character flaw, though he knew many others most likely did. Because once you knew everything there was to know about someone, the shock was gone. They could never again surprise you, never hurt you because you could see it coming from a mile away. It had never been a bad thing up until this point. Being in people's heads every second of the day, what choice had he been given but to live with that fact?

"You have questions, I know," Edward ground out. Gooseflesh had broken out on Bella's arms from their proximity, but he could not force himself to move away.

Bella shook her head quickly, sending her mahogany hair into a brief dance. "No." Then she looked up with a flaming face. "I do not understand why you prompt questions when you do not want to answer them."

Because _you _want me to answer them! That was what he wanted to say. In fact, the retort was on the tip of his tongue, ready and waiting. Why did it seem that every statement Bella made wrought twenty more questions he was dying to ask her?

He had expected her to react badly, she knew. She could just picture it: Edward explained himself and watched as Bella fled screaming and waving her arms. The news was not exactly welcome…and yet she couldn't clarify why she wanted him to trust her…

Bella mistook his quiet for confusion. Lowering her head once more, she said, "It wasn't very fair for me to force your hand. Had I realized that it was such a sensitive topic…"

Edward's pride flared a bit at that. "It wasn't. Isn't." He didn't like this new polite and reserved Bella. Where was the firecracker that had driven him insane by holding her breath? Where was the bravery? Why did he feel the urge to rush in and hold her to him and spill out anything and everything she wanted to know?

"You should have the chance to tell me when you're ready."

"I am. I just did." His anger came up, bubbling and simmering to the surface.

"But I know you did not _want _to. So it's your turn once again."

Edward clenched and unclenched his right fist. Once, twice. Feeling the annoyance drain out of him, he said, "Were you perhaps just a bit unnerved by it? Is that what brought all of this on?"

No. Yes. "That's two questions," Bella said, her voice trembling.

"Forget the game, Bella." Edward's voice was low and urgent. Bella felt feverish, her pupils dilating. Unconsciously, she leaned toward him slightly. Edward didn't seem to notice. "Just the first question, then. Were you scared of what I told you?"

"You don't want me to answer that," Bella replied feeling the sting of tears behind her eyes.

"Why not?" Edward burst out, finally losing his temper.

She shifted imperceptibly away from him, from his fury. And broke his heart all over again. "That's another question."

In a lithe move Bella did not see, Edward was once more standing. He needed distance. He couldn't have her scent whirling around in the air like that, enticing and succulent, when he wanted to hit something. Hard.

Her flowery aroma mixed with something less pungent but no less alluring. It was saline, Edward realized. She was crying.

"Miss Swan—"

Bella sniffled loudly, blotting beneath her eyes with the long sleeve of her nightgown. "I'm not crying."

Edward almost smiled at her tenacity. "I never said you were. But there is a good chance that someone might think you were."

"Well, I'm not," came the stubborn, watery reply. "There's just a bit of dust in my eye." It was an immature response. A stupid one, at that. She couldn't pinpoint why the thought of Edward—_your captor_, her mind screamed pleading with her heart, _the man who took your father away_—being upset with her made her feel like doing something ridiculous.

She turned her head up to blot the tears more effectively and caught the expression on Edward's face.

And in that moment, Isabella Swan tumbled headlong into love with him. Irrevocably.

Her hand itched. Staring into his eyes was like drowning. She couldn't breathe, couldn't speak. How could something be so horrible and wonderful at the same time? The color within his eyes swirled and changed, starting with a light topaz and fading to deep gold. Because it soothed her somewhat to scratch at the back of her hand, she did.

And suddenly, as if given a signal, the other hand began to itch as well. Bella raked her nails (very short from the bad habit she had of chewing on them) back and forth vigorously, not an easy feat as coated in sticky juice as she was. What was wrong with her? Her palms, her knuckles, her fingers, hands…all the way up to her elbows!

Edward stared.

As Bella rubbed her arms against each other, seeking relief from the burning sensation, Edward noticed for the first time what the raspberry juice had been concealing. Marring Bella's beautiful skin was the beginnings of an unsightly rash, plumping her arms. _Oh, dear._

"Miss Swan—"

"Holy crow!" Bella burst out. She whipped her head first left, then right, looking for something to chafe her flaming arms against. She more or less dragged herself to the beautiful wingback armchair whose material was just the right texture…

"Miss Swan—"

There was the sound of frantic friction as Bella scratched her arms against the chair, not at all satisfied, but much, much better.

And, as Bella sat back aghast at the puffy pink rash, Edward laughed aloud for the first time in nearing fifty years.

"I…don't see how...this is…amusing, Edward," Bella managed.

It wasn't, not if you stepped back to look at it. But as close as he was to all the drama, the hilarity only tightened its hold on him. Nevertheless, Edward did his best to sober his expression and stepped forward.

At least until Bella's frenzied itching broke the skin.

In a moment of utter madness, there is always that brief second, millisecond, where everything goes completely still. Where the world pauses to breathe before whatever chaos comes to take hold of it.

Time stopped.

Instinct gripped Bella tightly. She wouldn't feel the slow trickle of blood from her open wound, nor would she be able to hear the unsteady _thump-thump_ of her heartbeat bumping in her ears. Something was wrong. No, something was very wrong. Bella didn't need to look up to see where two charcoal eyes were rapidly scalding her raw flesh with their glare. Glazed eyes followed the path up her arm to the midsection of it where several tiny red dots began to appear.

Unconsciously, Edward's tongue darted out to moisten his lips.

The monster was back. Simple as that. He'd taken a momentary leave of absence, promising as always to return when he was least expected.

But his eyes, of their own accord, danced up to the stunned, befuddled expression on Bella's face.

And time started once more.

"Talk to me," he rasped.

Edward's lips were barely moving, but they were emitting sounds that seemed familiar. These were words she should know, words she had grown up knowing. And yet they weren't reaching her. Her mouth was as dry as cotton, unable to form a single syllable as she watched the pinpricks of blood continue to grow exponentially, unchecked.

_It smells awful_, Bella's subconscious moaned, incapable of doing much else.

_It smells wonderful. _Edward growled. He clenched his fists. He even tried to cease his breathing to no avail.

"Bella. Speak." It was his only rational wish. While the monster snarled and ripped viciously at the back of his throat, Edward's mind and heart wanted something entirely different. If she would only distract him somehow, try to take his mind off of this burning thirst so that he could function sanely!

"Mr. Edward…" Her voice sounded like it was coming from the other end of a tunnel. "I don't feel so well."

_Keep talking. _He was begging with her, trying to communicate when he couldn't at all force the sounds through his inflamed throat.

The only thing that kept him from pouncing, taking his first actual kill in forty-nine years was the resigned look in Bella's dazed eyes. She knew what he wanted to do, what he planned to do. And she was prepared not to fight, but to give up.

Even as the monster rejoiced, Edward took a step back. Then two. Slowly, painstakingly, he reached the door and fumbled for the knob. Bella's eyes did not see him anymore as he slipped outside.

She fainted for the second time in as many hours.

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Mortification had Bella murmuring a quiet "Thank you" as Carlisle wrapped her arms—from wrist to elbow—in white gauze.

"It isn't the most desirable remedy, and they will take some time to heal, but at least it will prevent any scratching."

She had no memory of how she had ended up downstairs, how Edward had staggered to Carlisle's study, weak from the pain of holding himself back from her blood.

Carlisle had diligently applied a pink lotion to her arms while she barely restrained any urges to tear her skin once more. Edward sat watching at waiting the entire time and Bella got the distinct impression that Carlisle did not want him to be there, though she did not hear the argument that had ensued between the two.

_**Edward, you did well. I can handle it from here. **_**Carlisle threw several colored bottles into his case effortlessly.**

**The muscles in Edward's neck stood alert with the effort he was expelling to hold back the thirst. Black eyes, fiery and bright nonetheless, stared back at Carlisle. "I will come with you."**

_**Edward.**_** Carlisle gave the equivalent of a mental sigh, still keeping his body ready to spring should Edward's resolve give way to the monster.**_** I don't think that's such a good idea.**_

**She was hurt, was all Edward could think. She was hurt and he needed to see for himself that she would be alright. "Carlisle," was all he said.**

**Despite the tensions in the house, Carlisle felt his son's determination radiating throughout the room. He couldn't deny Esme's claim now. Edward was in love. It made him grimace to think how quickly **_**he**_** would be at Esme's side if she so much as tripped.**

"**Fine. Feed." The thought had occurred to him to simply tend to Miss Swan while Edward made his way to the basement, but he could not bring himself to betray his son's trust.**

Carlisle had left Edward and the human, trying to resist the parental call that demanded he wait outside the door.

Seeing the familiar flash of caramel hair, Carlisle frowned. "Esme, what…?"

Esme raised a hand to her lips. Tugging him behind the door and out of the line of sight of the two inside the sitting room, she resumed her place at the threshold.

"Are you spying, my dear?" Carlisle's low voice, right at her ear, made her shiver.

"It has been called that in certain societies," she retorted airily.

Bella could feel Edward's eyes on her.

She groaned aloud. And through all this—all this careful consideration of what Edward wanted—she had managed to make a fool of herself in reply. Instead, she had broken into a scratching fit like a madwoman. And on top of it all, fainted_…again._

_Typical_, Bella grumbled mentally.

Bella lifted her bandaged arms, glaring at them in disgust before letting them fall.

"Well," she said to no one in particular, "that was embarrassing."

Edward wished he could say that after being close to her for so long, she no longer surprised him. At the moment, he was so very glad she couldn't see the look of incredulity that twisted his features.

"Getting those berries was too easy. I knew that plant had to be poison oak." She shuddered. "Oh, just imagine if I had eaten one."

Silence.

"I faint at the sight of blood. I hope it to be my only true stereotypical feminine quality." Well, that and crying at every little thing. Bella turned her head slightly to stare at him. "Not so much the sight, I guess, but the smell is what kills me."

"Humans cannot smell blood," Edward replied automatically.

Just the way he said _humans_—not condescending at all, but detached, like he was well aware he didn't belong to that particular group—ruffled Bella's feathers slightly. "Says you."

"What does it smell like then?" Edward challenged. What was he doing to himself? The _last_ thing on earth he wanted to discuss was blood, most especially when it was Bella's.

"Fine, but this is your second question." While their game had flown right out of Edward's head the moment he'd revealed himself, it was Bella's lifeline.

"Blood smells…disgusting. Like...I don't know if you've ever let a pipe rust after it has rained for a long time…"

He hadn't.

"…but it just smells like that. Rusty, salty, awful."

Her description unnerved him. Yes, blood, he supposed, may smell an awful lot like what she had just described. To a human, anyway. Possibly even to him, if he thought about it. But it was his nature to think it delicious, tantalizing and mouthwatering. He didn't want to dwell on it, and yet she'd offered it so willingly. But he'd asked. Once again, it all came back to him.

"My turn," Bella said unsteadily. Those brooding silences frightened her more than anything. It was on the tip of his tongue, she knew, to order someone to simply lock her up somewhere far away where she wouldn't see another living soul for a long time. Where she wouldn't see _him_ for a long time.

"Bella." Edward's voice was low and desperate. "I only want to ask one final question, and then you may ask me any one that you wish."

There. That was it. The finality in his tone had her curling into herself on the settee. "Alright."

"What were you thinking when I told you?"

The question was oddly intimate. No one, save Charlie, had ever asked her about her thoughts on something.

And so, the words poured from her mouth like a waterfall. "I knew you weren't comfortable telling me. I did not want you to regret it, that's all." No, it wasn't. She didn't want to him to regret anything that happened between them. Bella gnawed on her lower lip. Somehow, one of them would not be pleased with her answer, and she wondered who it would be.

"I did not believe you at first," Bella whispered. "I thought you must be telling me something you thought I would accept so that I would keep from questioning you about it."

Acceptable? How in God's name was being a vampire acceptable?

As though reading Edward's look of consternation, Bella scowled and said, "I never said my thoughts were one hundred percent logical."

She continued, "And then I reasoned that you were simply ill."

Her brown eyes were roaming the room, straying anywhere but where Edward wanted them: on his. He had no way of dragging the truth from her. Bella could say whatever she wished and he would never fully know if it was the truth.

"But suddenly it all made sense, especially when I scraped my arm." Bella was quiet for a few moments and Edward thought she had finished. "I suppose I'm not a very talkative person. But I like to watch. I watched people in Forks and the way they interacted until I could almost predict their next moves. So I watched here as I did there. You and your family never ate. You possessed supernatural strength. And your eyes change. Sometimes they'd be…topaz, I guess is the closest color. Then other times they'd be completely opaque with blackness.

"Not to say that I figured it out all on my own. The person who reassured me of my assumptions probably did not even know that they did." Bella paused for breath. "My father's friend loved to tell ghost stories. The sort that leave you quivering beneath the covers long after they've been told. The last time he visited, he told me of what he called the Cold Ones. I realized if it walked like a duck and quacked like a duck—"

"Then it must be a vampire."

Edward had thought Bella Swan's expression when he revealed himself to her had shaken the world as he saw it. Her next words threw his Earth off its axis entirely.

"But then I decided that it did not matter."

He would have bet one hundred years worth of advanced hearing on the fact that he'd heard her incorrectly. But that didn't stop him from bursting out, "It didn't matter?"

Taken aback a bit at his anger, Bella murmured, "No."

"Then you did not understand." He had just expected her to grasp in completely, hadn't he? _Idiot_, he chastised once more bitterly.

"Oh, I understood. I think maybe you don't: it just really makes little difference."

"You understand, do you? You understand that at this very moment, I can see your pulse strumming against your skin. Just barely contained, just barely protected. You would never be able to fight me off if I decided I wanted it. I would be at your throat so quickly, you wouldn't even realize it!" He was breathing heavy, speaking low and furious yet the words thundered throughout the room. Edward found himself utterly sickened by the way he spoke to her, but had no way of controlling the words that frothed madly at his lips. "You understand, then, that every second in a room with your scent is torture. Even when you aren't there. Your blood calls to me, and you have no earthly idea of it."

Bella began to tremble. Her body vibrated on the settee. "You're trying to scare me," she whispered.

"Yes!" Edward shouted. "Now we understand each other! I am the monster that you won't find even in your nightmares. And you are the prey that I hunt."

"Stop."

The word was soft-spoken, not even really a reprimand, though it was said firmly. Esme strode over to the pair with anger thrumming in her golden eyes. "Please allow me to speak with Miss Swan, Edward."

It was evident from his expression that Edward had no intention of doing so. "Esme—"

"You will leave us now."

Esme so rarely gave orders. He could probably count the number of times that she did. And when her infrequent requests were made, they were hastened to be followed. Feeling cowed, Edward stood. That dazed, terrified look in Bella's eyes made him want to hit something. Unfortunately, his conscious conveyed snidely, since he had been the one to put it there. He slammed the door behind him, vexed when it did nothing to soothe the savagery of his insides.

Esme watched the girl shivering quietly as fat tears rolled down her pink cheeks. Men, she thought with more than a bit of agitation, could be such idiots at times.


End file.
